Harry Potter and the Order of Merlin 1 ABH
by illjwamh
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts, gets the Order of Merlin, and joins the aurors. All the while his relationship with Ginny grows, and those around him attempt to carry on with their lives. The first story in a series. 1 ABH refers to the year after the Battle of Hogwarts. If all goes as planned, there will be many more to follow.
1. Chapter 1: The Boy Who Laughed

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all that is included in his universe belong to and were created by J.K. Rowling, bless her. I'm just writing this for fun, and apparently because I have nothing better to do with my time.

This story assumes the events and conversations of my other fic, Chapter 37, are canonical. Not that it makes that much of a difference, really.

Lastly, I'd just like to say, as to the title of this chapter, I would bet a million dollars I'm not the first person to think of it, but I'm not about to search the entire internet to check. Hell, it's possible I actually saw it somewhere and subconsciously remembered when I was coming up with a title. If so, let's call it an homage and leave it at that. Also, there's a character in here that some fanfictionados (my word) will likely recognize. That one is deliberate.

**CHAPTER ONE**

**The Boy Who Laughed**

It was a hot, muggy day in the middle of July, and Harry Potter was looking across the road at the one place he'd hoped he'd never have to see again: Number Four, Privet Drive. The war was over, Voldemort was dead, and he was free to do what he wanted for the first time in his life. With this newfound freedom, he and his friends had made the prudent decision of returning to school for their final year, as they had been busy with other things the year before. Unfortunately, this meant he needed to collect all of his old school things he'd left behind.

It was a reunion he wasn't exactly looking forward to. He and the Dursleys had not exactly parted on good terms (not that they'd ever been on good terms to begin with), and he was sure they wouldn't be any more pleased than he was to see each other again after they'd supposedly parted forever.

His best friends Ron and Hermione had offered to come with him for moral support, and he'd been extremely tempted. However, in the end he decided that – amusing though it undoubtedly would have been – it would be better to just do it as quickly and painlessly as possible, with minimal interaction. And so, here he was, crossing Privet Drive, wondering for the hundredth time why he hadn't just gone to Diagon Alley to buy _new_ things.

The house was exactly as it had always been. Evidently Aunt Petunia had been busy since coming out of hiding, because there were no signs that her flowers, hedges or Uncle Vernon's precious lawn had been neglected for any length of time, let alone nearly a year. Steeling himself, Harry trudged up to the front door and rang the bell.

'Just a moment, I'm coming,' came the unmistakable bellow of Uncle Vernon, though somehow his tone seemed a lot lighter than Harry could ever remember. Perhaps it was a subconscious reaction to the knowledge that he'd never have to see Harry again; Harry couldn't resist a smirk. This might still be amusing after all.

The door swung open and Harry had to catch himself from laughing. The immediate drop in his Uncle's expression was extremely comical, and he suddenly resembled nothing more than a large fish with bulging eyes watching people tap on its tank.

'Y-you!' he stammered. 'YOU!' He pointed a shaking, sausage-like finger at Harry, seemingly unable to blink or say anything else.

'Who is it, Vernon?' came Aunt Petunia's voice from the kitchen. A moment later she appeared behind Uncle Vernon and froze, her expression giving the impression that she was suddenly choking on something.

'Nice to see you both, too,' remarked Harry dryly. 'Can I come in, or are you just going to stare at me all day?'

Uncle Vernon seemed to regain his senses at this, because his face became a very familiar shade of purple and he regained the power of speech.

'Come in?' he repeated incredulously. 'Of course you can't come in! You told us we'd be rid of you, boy! That protection thingy or whatever it was doesn't work anymore, does it? So you have no business being anywhere near this house!'

'Keep your trousers on, I didn't come by to catch up on old times,' said Harry impatiently. 'I just wanted to get the rest of my things that I left here last summer.'

'Is that so?' bellowed Uncle Vernon. 'Well, what would you do if I said we'd gotten rid of all of your rubbish, eh?'

'Have you?' asked Harry, arching an eyebrow. He imagined it would've taken the Dursleys some time to remove his things, owing chiefly to the fact that they would first need to work up the nerve to actually go near them.

For whatever reason, Uncle Vernon didn't seem able to conceal the truth, and after a few moments of stammering incoherently, he stepped aside to allow Harry into the house.

'Very well,' he said angrily. 'Go and collect your ruddy things then and be quick about it. And clean up the room while you're at it so Dudley can move his spare things back in there.'

Harry nodded as civilly as he could and began climbing up the stairs. Aunt Petunia remained rooted to the spot where she'd first appeared, and hadn't taken her eyes off him. He could feel her gaze following him up the stairs, but chose to ignore it. When he reached the landing, he was about to head over to his old room when a door opened up down the hall and his cousin stepped out, just as shocked to see him as his aunt and uncle had been.

'I thought I heard you,' Dudley said simply. 'What are you doing back here?' His question held none of the malice Harry had grown accustomed to in his years growing up with Dudley; it sounded as though he was honestly just curious.

Just as odd was Dudley's appearance: he retained the muscular form he'd developed over years of boxing, but somehow he didn't seem quite as large and brutish as before. Harry couldn't put his finger on why that would be, since his cousin certainly hadn't shrunk.

'I came for my stuff,' Harry explained, pointing to his old bedroom door. 'I didn't have time to pack it all last time, and I didn't need a lot of it anyway. But I'm going back to school now, so I figured I should come and get it.'

'You're going back to school?' Dudley asked. 'So what Hestia said was true? The war really is over?'

Harry was slightly surprised to hear Dudley refer to Hestia by name, but he didn't comment on it. Rather, he just nodded in response to the question.

'Blimey,' said Dudley. 'So you really did all that stuff, did you? Fought Lord Whatsisname and everything?'

'Lord Voldemort, yeah,' Harry answered, not sure which took him aback more: Dudley taking an interest in anything to do with magic, or Dudley taking an interest in anything to do with him. A somewhat civil parting a year ago hadn't undone seventeen years' instinct when it came to his burly cousin.

Dudley let out a low whistle, evidently impressed, and then stood for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. It was a rather odd sight, really. After a short pause, Dudley shook himself out of his reverie and addressed Harry again.

'So did you need any help or anything?'

The unprecedented nature of this question made Harry quite sure he had misheard, and he had to master an impulse to clean out his ear with his finger, thinking that might be tactless. Instead, he said, 'What?'

'With your stuff,' Dudley elaborated. 'You've got a lot in there; I saw when Mum was cleaning the house when we got back last month.'

Harry's first instinct was to say no. After all, he'd never intentionally sought Dudley's company before, and indeed had avoided it whenever possible. Also, he didn't really need any help at all, since he could put just about everything into his trunk with one wave of his wand, then apparate out with it. As he opened his mouth to refuse, however, he noticed that Dudley's expression was still just one of polite interest, and he seemed to genuinely want to help. He didn't know whether it was due to not wanting to discourage the first real act of kindness he'd ever seen Dudley make or sheer morbid curiosity, but he decided to accept the offer.

'Sure, Dud,' he said. 'Thanks.'

The two of them entered Harry's old room and set to work. It wasn't difficult; he'd left most of what he hadn't taken with him either neatly stacked or piled in his cauldron. It was only a matter of hefting it all back into his trunk, which still lay open from when he'd emptied it one year before.

'So when did you say you all got back?' Harry asked as he packed volumes one through six of _The Standard Book of Spells_ by Miranda Goshawk.

'About a month ago,' Dudley replied, piling bottles of potion ingredients into Harry's cauldron. The very idea of such an image gave Harry a strong urge to laugh. 'Just before my birthday, which was too bad because I was hoping…well, never mind.' Though Harry was sure that what his cousin had been about to say involved wishing they'd gotten back earlier so as to have had enough time to plan a big party for his eighteenth birthday.

'At least you didn't have to celebrate your birthday on the run,' Harry supplied, trying to buck Dudley up. It didn't seem to work though, as Dudley just heaved a great sigh and said, 'Yeah.'

An awkward pause followed, in which Harry decided to check under the bed to see if they'd missed anything, though he was quite sure there was nothing there. Carrying on a conversation with Dudley was proving difficult; not surprising as they'd never really tried it before.

When he emerged again it was to find Dudley studying him. Before he could say anything, though, Dudley asked, 'So your lot come of age at seventeen, do you?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, wondering where that question had come from.

'Weird,' Dudley whispered. 'And you're allowed to do…you know…whenever you want?'

Harry was used to Dudley avoiding saying the word 'magic', so he paid it no mind. 'Well, not whenever we want,' he said. 'We can't do it in front of Muggles, say. Most Muggles, anyway. I could probably get away with doing it in front of you or your folks because you already know it exists.'

'So you're not allowed to mix with normal peo-Muggles?' Dudley asked.

'No, that's not true,' Harry said, somewhat confused as to where the conversation was going now. 'There are certainly some wizards who think that Muggles are a waste of time and space – that's a lot of what the war was about, actually – but there's nothing outside of prejudice saying we can't talk to you or anything. A lot of wizards and witches are Muggle-born after all, so you can hardly expect them to cut off ties with their own families. And lots of people marry Muggles, too.'

'Do they?'

'Well, yeah. If you fancy someone you fancy them; what's it matter whether they can do magic or not?'

'Heh,' snorted Dudley. 'I bet for some people it matters.'

'Well, yeah. On both sides, really. There are wizards who don't like Muggles just like there are Muggles who don't like wizards.' He tried not to stare pointedly at Dudley when he said this – he really did – but something about his tone must have come across, because Dudley scowled viciously.

'Look, I know what you're talking about, all right?' he said. 'I'm not completely stupid, you know. It must have been hell for you growing up here, and I…well, I didn't really help, did I? So I guess…I'm sorry.'

He held out his hand and Harry was so stunned he didn't do anything for several seconds. Finally, he took his cousin's hand and said, 'Don't worry about it.' He wasn't sure he meant it, but he wanted to acknowledge Dudley's apology in some way. He just hoped Dudley realized the scope of what exactly he was apologising for.

'You're letting me off easy, you know,' Dudley said. 'You could hold this over me forever. I probably would.'

Harry pondered that. It _was_ the sort of thing Dudley himself might have done – the old Dudley, anyway – but there didn't seem to be any real point to it.

'Yeah, well, eventually you get to the point where you realize there are more important things to worry about in life,' Harry said. Releasing Dudley's hand, he closed up his fully packed trunk and cast a featherweight charm on it. Lifting it up by one of its handles, he prepared to disapparate.

'See you around, Big D,' he said, repeating his words from their supposed final farewell last summer, the one where Dudley had first shown signs of thinking for himself.

'Are you leaving from here?' Dudley asked.

'I was going to,' Harry answered, perplexed.

'I don't think that's a good idea,' Dudley said. 'You should let Mum and Dad see you go so they don't think you're messing around up here.'

Seeing his aunt and uncle again wasn't high on his list of priorities, and in the past he would have been more than happy to leave Dudley to deal with them, but he was feeling uncommonly generous toward his cousin at the moment, who did after all make a good point.

'All right, I will,' he said. He left the room and made for the stairs, and when Dudley didn't follow he turned and asked, 'You coming?'

'I don't think I should,' Dudley answered. 'It'd be best if they didn't know I was talking to you; they're not too happy with me right now as it is.'

This surprised Harry as much as anything else he'd heard that day, for he'd never known Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to do anything less than dote on Dudley's every whim, much less be upset with him over anything. Rather than ask what the problem was – he was sure he didn't want to know anyway – he merely nodded. 'Okay. Bye, then.'

When he made it to the bottom of the stairs Uncle Vernon was waiting for him, Aunt Petunia hovering in the background.

'So,' his uncle said. 'Have everything do you?' Harry nodded. 'So there'll be no need for you to call again, isn't that right?' Harry nodded again. 'Excellent. Be off with you then, boy.' He gestured to the front door, but Harry had something else in mind. An idea had just struck him, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

'So long for good this time,' Harry said. 'Thanks for letting me come back for my stuff.' He hefted the trunk. 'I'll definitely be needing it. This is my last year at Hogwarts, after all. Sorry you can't come, Tuney.'

And as he turned to disapparate, Harry caught the look on his aunt's face at his parting words. It was absolutely priceless.

~O~O~O~O~

Harry appeared a moment later on the lane leading to the Burrow, and as always when he set sight upon the house, his face broke into a smile. Though he was officially living at Grimmauld place now, he had been spending much more time at the Weasleys' than at his own home. The memories of Sirius weren't nearly as painful as they once had been, but the house still possessed a rather spooky ambiance to it that he found slightly unsettling. It didn't help that a dust corpse of his old headmaster still rose from the floor every time he walked in the front door, either.

Harry walked slowly up the lane toward the house, a feeling of anticipation in his chest swelling at the thought of seeing all his favourite people – even though he'd seen them all the day before. He couldn't help it; it was as if his grief for all those he'd lost was being beaten back by the happiness he felt that so many of them were still alive. He was sure Professor Dumbledore would have had something cryptic and inspiring to say about it.

He approached the house and knocked on the front door. He could hear through it the bustle of activity going on inside; Fred's funeral was that afternoon.

'Harry, dear!' Mrs Weasley exclaimed as she answered the door. 'How are you? Any trouble on the way here? You know I worry about you wandering around out there on your own. It's still so soon, and there are plenty of people-'

'It's all right, Mrs Weasley,' Harry said, cutting her off with a smile. 'I apparated right at the property line. Didn't even take me a minute to get to the house.'

'Yes, well, be that as it may…' but Harry didn't get to hear the rest of Mrs Weasley's concerns, because at that moment he was crashed into by someone short and fast, and was quite distracted by the pair of soft, warm lips pressing into his.

'Hey, you,' Ginny purred, beaming at him once they'd parted. Mrs Weasley had apparently decided to leave them be, since he could hear her voice coming from the kitchen ('No, Ron, don't put that in the fire!'), but all he could focus on were the brilliant, sparkling brown eyes blazing into his own. That is, until a gigantic _FOOM!,_ followed by a loud crash, several curses and a scream of frustration burst from the kitchen.

'Should we…should we help?' Harry asked, not sure whether to be concerned or amused. Ginny took on a more serious expression as she shook her head.

'I already tried,' she said. 'Mum's really on edge over this funeral, you know. She wants everything to be just perfect, and it's not like I blame her at all, but she's been a bit hard on the rest of us. Why Ron hasn't given up trying to help is beyond me. Even George said she's best left to do it alone at this point.'

'Well, let's just hope this is the only funeral like this she ever has to plan,' Harry said. Ginny nodded solemnly, then turned her attention to his trunk, which he'd dropped abruptly upon her enthusiastic greeting.

'Is that your school stuff?' she asked. He nodded. 'I'm glad you're going back,' she said, looking back at him. 'Hogwarts was so weird without you. It just felt…wrong.' Harry grinned in spite of himself.

'I think there might have been a few other things going on last year that would have made it seem wrong whether I was there or not,' he said.

She shoved him playfully. 'Prat. You know what I mean. No matter how bad things ever got at Hogwarts, I could always count on you to be there. Last year I was on my own.'

'You did quite all right for yourself from what I hear,' he said, grinning. 'And you weren't on your own. Neville and Luna were there with you.'

'You're right,' she sighed. 'It just would've been nice to have someone to cuddle sometimes.' She wrapped her arms against him again and hugged him tightly. He hugged back, not really having anything to say to that.

'Let's go out back,' she said after a few minutes of the two of them just holding each other silently. 'I want to show you the plot where we're burying him.' She let go of him and took his hand, leading him through the house to the back door that was seldom used (in order to avoid the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley was still going at Ron).

'So it's definitely been decided, then?' Harry asked, referring to the question of where Fred was going to be buried. The entire Weasley family had been debating it for weeks, and the pressure was getting to everyone. It had been over two months now since Fred's death; the only thing everyone had seemed to agree on was they had waited far too long.

'Yeah,' said Ginny. 'The only other place that would have made sense was the church cemetery down in the village, but barely anyone knew him there. This way he'll be surrounded by people he knew and who loved him.'

'That makes sense, I guess,' said Harry, who'd never really thought much about the significance of where one was buried, except perhaps regarding Dumbledore. He was glad to have been able to give Dobby a proper resting place, but he regretted not being able to do more for Mad-Eye Moody. He couldn't even remember what forest they were in when he'd buried the eye. He'd have to ask Hermione if she remembered. She probably did.

Ginny led him to the small pond past the garden, and around it so they were on the opposite bank from the house. Placed under an old willow tree there was a small dais, which would be supporting Fred's body in only a few hours.

'We're not doing a tomb or anything like Dumbledore,' Ginny explained when she saw Harry eyeing the small alter. 'This is just so people can see him before we bury him.'

'It's nice,' said Harry, admiring it. It really was a beautiful spot; the way the angle was set up, anyone visiting the grave at dawn would be greeted with the rising sun reflecting off the pond and through the branches of the willow tree. He knew this, having seen it himself only a few weeks before, sitting in this same spot with Ginny. Of course they would have to find a new spot now – while it probably would have amused Fred to no end to have the two of them snogging right next to his tombstone, he somehow didn't think Mr and Mrs Weasley would appreciate it very much.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

By two o'clock that afternoon, people had begun to show up for the service. The same tufty-haired wizard who'd spoken at both Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding showed up around half-past, and Harry wondered if this man didn't preside over every magical funeral in the country, having already had to sit through him again at Lupin and Tonks' funeral at the beginning of the month. He got the feeling it wasn't the sort of thing Fred would want at his own funeral, which was why his left hand was currently gripped around the stash of Weasley's Wildfire Whizbangs hidden in his pocket. He'd promised George he'd set them off as soon as the proceedings got 'too solemn for their own good' which, judging from past experience, would be as soon as the wheezy little man opened his mouth.

It was, as all funerals he'd yet been to, a unique experience. Whereas Dumbledore's had been a large and public affair, and Lupin and Tonks' had been very small with only close family, friends, and members of the Order in attendance, Fred's was a mix between the two. It was hardly the headline-grabbing event of Dumbledore's, but many more people he recognized had come than at Lupin and Tonks'.

Aside from all the members of the Order and most of the Weasley relatives Harry recognized from Bill and Fleur's wedding the previous summer, many others had come to pay their respects as well. Lee Jordan was of course one of the first to arrive, along with everyone from the old Gryffindor Quiddich team like Angenlina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. There were a few other people whom Harry knew by sight but not by name as people who'd been in the twins' year at Hogwarts.

Verity, the young witch from the twins' shop was there, crying heavily, as were a couple of girls Harry had seen down in the village on the rare occasions he'd been there. Luna and her father had come, as well as Mr and Mrs Diggory and – to Harry's great surprise – Filch, the surly caretaker from Hogwarts who'd been at war with Fred and George since they first set foot inside the castle.

Most of the rest of the Hogwarts staff had come as well, along with a number of people Harry recognized from Hogsmeade. One of the last people to arrive was a tall, dark-haired girl in expensive-looking black robes who looked vaguely familiar, but whom Harry couldn't place.

'Who's that?' he asked George once everyone had arrived and taken their seats. He indicated the dark-haired girl who had chosen a seat off on her own and had at least two empty chairs between her and anybody else in every direction. She was crying silently, but gave no indication that she knew anyone else present, and the rest of the guests were treating her with an equal amount of indifference.

'That's Iris,' George said. 'Parkinson,' he clarified at Harry's puzzled look.

'Parkinson?' asked Harry, shocked. 'You don't mean…'

'I mean the one whose little sister tried to rat you out during the last battle, yeah,' said George, nodding. 'She and Fred have been on and off for years. Bet it's tough on her. They had a row only a couple of days before we went into hiding, and she didn't see him again before he died.'

Harry was having trouble swallowing this unexpected new bit of information. 'Fred was going out with…with Pansy Parkinson's sister?' he stammered. 'How come none of us ever knew about it? And what did he see in her, anyway?'

'Well, dear Iris didn't exactly want it to be public knowledge, now did she?' George said wryly. 'You know her sister; that should give you some idea of what her family's like. Not as bad as the Malfoys or Sirius's family, but they still would have been right furious with her for going out with a filthy blood traitor like Fred.'

'So she wanted to keep it a secret?' Harry asked. George nodded. 'I can't imagine Fred being too happy about that.' He himself wouldn't have been, either, come to that. It would have to hurt for someone you cared about to feel ashamed to be with you.

'No, he wasn't,' said George ruefully. 'Half the time when they were "off", that's what they were rowing about. But they always ended up back together. He even said he was thinking of proposing to her when the war was over – force her hand.' A sad smile crossed George's face, and it was such a poignant expression on someone who was usually so jovial that Harry had to look away to choke back a sob. 'As for what he saw in her,' George shrugged, 'only he knew. He got pretty shirty with me whenever I asked him about it.'

'Well, she can't be all bad if Fred was thinking about marrying her,' Harry reasoned, though he still found it difficult to believe. 'How did she know the funeral was today? Did you tell her?'

George nodded again. 'I knew nobody else would think to invite her. Hell, no one else would even know she'd want to come, would they?' He paused to look at his watch. 'It's about time to start. You've got the Whizbangs, right?'

'Right here,' Harry said, pulling them out of his pocket just enough for George to see.

'Excellent,' George smiled. 'Thanks a million, Harry.'

'Don't mention it.'

With that, George walked away to his seat up front, and Harry walked over to where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were talking.

'George says it's just about time,' Harry told them. 'Reckon we should find some seats.'

'Okay,' the three of them said, and began moving up toward the front.

'You coming, Harry?' Ron turned and asked when Harry didn't follow them.

'Um, actually, I was thinking…I'd rather sit near the back.' He felt like a berk just saying it, but he knew he'd never manage to pull off George's request sitting up front. Or with his friends, for that matter, but he was in enough hot water as it was without claiming he wanted to be alone. If he was lucky, one problem would take care of the other.

'What for, Harry?' Hermione asked. She seemed honestly curious, but Ron and Ginny looked rather annoyed. Ginny opened her mouth, perhaps to tell him off, and Ron wasn't far behind her.

'It's just…it feels less awkward from back here,' he babbled, knowing it would be an unacceptable excuse.

'Oh, is that it?' Ron asked. 'Sorry if my brother's funeral is too awkward for you, mate. You didn't seem to mind sitting up front for Tonks and Lupin.' Harry cringed; they had him on that one.

'Ron!' Hermione yelled. 'Don't go getting all defensive! You know Harry cared about Fred; how could you even say something like that? If he wants to sit in the back, I'm sure he has a good reason.' To her credit, Hermione sounded as though she really believed what she was saying, though Harry was certain she was wondering about his decision as well.

'Look,' he said. 'I'd like to sit with you lot, but if you want to sit up front, I understand.'

'Well good, I'm glad you do,' Ginny snapped, 'because that's where we'll be.' She spun around and stormed up toward the front row of seats; Ron spared him a rueful glance before following in her wake. The anger in her voice had been nothing compared to the hurt expression on her face, and despite the fact he was sure they'd forgive him later, it didn't make it any easier to deal with at the moment. Hermione gave him a non-committal shrug before following the other two.

Trying hard not to worry too much about their reactions, Harry forced himself to remember that he had a job to do. He sat down in the second to last row, across the isle from Iris Parkinson. The area around him was almost as deserted as it was around her. He pulled out his wand, ready to ignite the fireworks still sitting snugly in his left pocket.

The procession started off much as he'd expected it to, with the tufty-haired old wizard (whom Harry doubted had ever even met Fred, let alone known him as well as his speech was letting on) droning on about how 'noble' and 'brave' Fred had been, and how he would be glad to know that his sacrifice had not been in vain – that the rest of his family had survived. It was when the man began talking about what a pure spirit Fred had possessed, and all the good he could have done in the world, that Harry knew the time had come. He pulled the fireworks from his pocket, and without giving anyone any time to realize what he was doing (not that they were looking at him anyway), he touched his wand to the fuses, igniting them, and then used a levitation spell to send them about ten feet into the air before they took off.

At first no one seemed to realize what was happening. There was a loud whistling noise that made it hard to hear the wheezy voice extolling the virtues of Fred's 'Honorable and generous soul', and then all of a sudden there came three mighty explosions in rapid succession directly above the ceremony.

The way everyone's head snapped up at the exact same moment was almost amusing, but as Harry's followed them a half-second later he didn't really have the time to contemplate it. More explosions were following the first three, and bursts of light in all colors imaginable were illuminating the partially shaded garden. Small flame dragons were flying about breathing their own fire in turn, Catherine wheels laden with sparklers were spinning wildly, and an almost celebratory music filled the afternoon air. George had certainly outdone himself on this batch.

All around him, Harry could hear the astonished gasps of the funeral guests; some were clearly scandalized, some merely shocked, and he was sure he actually heard a few people cheering. On impulse, he glanced over at Iris Parkinson, who like everyone else was focusing her gaze on the light show above, but there was something else in her expression that caught Harry's attention: tears were still leaking from her eyes, but now she was laughing through her sobs and was smiling so brightly that Harry couldn't help but smile with her. His attention remained on her until the loudest explosion yet rocked the sky, and he looked up to see Fred's image grinning down at them all, above the words:

**WHY SO GLUM, CHUMS?**

Now it wasn't just a few people cheering. The whole garden was alive with people yelling, whooping, and laughing. Another glance at Iris showed her to be somewhere between bawling and guffawing; perhaps unable to decide on one or the other, she had simply settled on both. Harry himself couldn't keep an enormous grin from splitting his face in two, and his heart felt lighter than it had in over a year. Even with one of them gone, the twins truly had a gift.

There was another loud bang from up near the dais, and Harry looked to see George standing there with his wand pointed at the sky, obviously having just made the noise. He had apparently turned the wheezy old man into a duck, and commandeered the position of key speaker. The volume died down quickly, but not the exuberance brought on by the fireworks display; few people retook their seats as George began to speak.

'Fred and I want to thank you all for coming,' he said loudly, for not all the noise had yet vanished. 'And since we all know that if Fred were really as righteous and gallant as this bloke was making him out to be he would've at least told Filch where we hid his toupee, let's all stop pretending and send him off in style.' A couple of people clapped at this, and he heard a whistle or two, and Iris let out another laughing sob.

'Fred Weasley was a joking, pranking, conniving, sneaky, right pain in the arse,' George said matter-of-factly. 'And we wouldn't have had him any other way. When I lost my ear, and everyone was so worried sick about me, Fred tore me out for not making a good enough joke. I know for a fact he'd be trying to hex us all if we didn't do him right at his own funeral. Yes, Fred died fighting Voldemort.' (A shiver went through the crowd at the mention of the name, but George pretended not to notice). 'Yes, he was never afraid to do what was right and carried that to the very end. But that's not what I'll remember. I'll remember my brother who helped me invent Puking Pastilles and Fever Fudge. I'll remember playing jokes on Mum, acting like she couldn't tell us apart. I'll remember the first member of our family to welcome back my brother Percy, after everything he'd done. And wouldn't you know it, it turned out to be the shock of Percy actually telling a joke that finally did him in. Way to go, Perce.' George smiled at his older brother, and though it was difficult for Harry to see from where he was, he thought he saw Percy smiling back with tears in his eyes.

'So let's get to work and bury this wanker, who may be gone forever but will never be forgotten. He asks only that you don't step on him when you come to visit, though Filch, you're welcome to have a dance or two if you like.' Another ripple went through the crowd, this time one of appreciative laughter. For a final tribute, George conjured himself a flagon of mead and raised it into the air with the toast: 'To Fred Weasley, the Boy Who Laughed!'

~O~O~O~O~

END NOTES: Many people familiar with HP fanfiction might recognize Iris Parkinson. Her appearance was an homage to one of my favourite fics of all time (HP or otherwise).

As for the long wait between Fred's death and his burial, it is certainly unusual but not unheard of. A number of circumstances can lead to delays in situations like this. I couldn't possibly have had any of those in mind when writing this. Will it even come up again? Who knows?


	2. Chapter 2: Postman Prongs

I don't really have a lot to say here other than this update is faster than future ones are likely to be for a couple of reasons: first, the beginning chapters are already done and so I can upload them whenever I want, while that won't be the case later on. Second, I want to give the story some good traction – establish a foothold, if you will. One chapter isn't often enough to do that.

So there you have it. The fastest update I've ever done since joining the site, and it'll never happen again.

**Chapter 2**

**Postman Prongs**

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Ginny had crashed into him immediately after the ceremony and was now trying to crush him in a hug while wailing into his chest. "I should have known you weren't being selfish. Thank you so much."

"It's okay, Gin," he said, returning the hug and stroking her hair. "I knew you and Ron wouldn't be happy with me, but George wanted it to be a surprise for everyone and I had to be sitting by myself for that to work."

"He knew we'd all be watching for him to do something crazy," Ron's voice said as he and Hermione appeared. "The old bait and switch. Can't believe I fell for it. Sorry, mate." He clapped Harry on the shoulder as Ginny emitted a sniffly chuckle and loosened her embrace a little.

"Really, Harry, was it necessary to make us think you were an insensitive clod?" Hermione asked, though she did have a wry grin on her face.

"I thought you were on my side!" Harry cried indignantly.

"I said you would have your reasons, but I didn't know what they were," she said. "To be honest I thought you were being a tad selfish also."

"I guess it really did look that way, didn't it?" Harry admitted. "That was kind of the point, though. Like I said, if I'd been sitting with you it would have ruined the surprise."

"Too right it would have," said George, who'd escaped from his parents and was making his way over. "Well done, Harry. Knew I could count on you." He too clapped Harry on the shoulder when he spoke. Ginny had yet to fully release him.

"You prat," she sniped at George. "You made me angry at him."

"But you aren't anymore, are you?" George pointed out, to which Ginny responded by sticking her tongue out at him.

"Excuse me," a voice interrupted them. Harry turned to see a thoroughly shaken Iris Parkinson, still wiping tears from her very wet face but managing a brilliant smile all the same.

"That was wonderful," she said to Harry. "Thank you so much."

"It was George's idea," Harry said, feeling put on the spot. He was pretty sure no one but he and George knew who this girl was.

"I figured as much," she said, and turned to George. "Thank you for inviting me," she told him sincerely. "I really needed to be able to say goodbye, you know?"

"I know. Are you staying?" he asked, gesturing to the milling crowd that had formed in the backyard. Food was put out and people were consoling one another and (more frequently) laughing about something Fred had done at one time or another.

"I don't think I should," Iris said, shaking her head. "I'm not sure I'm welcome here anyway, and I got to see the important part."

"You're welcome if I say you're welcome," George said sternly, directing a firm gaze at the crowd as if daring any of them to say otherwise. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were observing the conversation with very confused expressions.

"Thank you," Iris said, reaching out to touch George's arm. "I mean that. I know you and I never really got along either, but it means a lot to me that you would want me here. Still, I should probably go." She sniffed and wiped her tears away again, and when she did Harry caught the sunlight glinting off an enormous diamond ring on her left hand. From the slight double-take he saw out of the corner of his eye, he knew George had seen it too.

"Thanks again," she said to both Harry and George, and walked away toward the front yard where she could disapparate.

Harry turned to look at George, who looked as if he'd been struck dumb. He had never seen either of the twins at a complete loss for words before, but it was understandable in this situation.

"Oi!" Ron said, breaking the awkward silence. "Either of you going to tell us who that was?"  
"She looked so familiar," Hermione mused, putting her finger to her chin in thought.

"Just…a friend of Fred's," George stammered. It was a pretty weak explanation.

"She seemed like more that a friend," Ginny said. Harry was quite sure he and George were not the only ones to have seen the ring, but did the others realize what it meant?

"Reckon you're right, little sister," George said, and the five of them began moving back toward the crowd. When the others had been pulled into conversations with other family members, George pulled Harry aside.

"Blimey, did you see the size of that thing?" He exclaimed. "When the hell did he give her that, I wonder? I can't imagine he'd send it by owl from the safe house."

"I thought you said they'd had a row," Harry said, confused.

"They did. It was the same song and dance as always. Fred wanted to be open about their relationship and Iris didn't want to tell her family about it. When he told me he was going to propose he said it was an all or nothing move. Either she said yes, which meant she wanted to be with him, or she said no, which meant he was going to break it off for good."

"Looks like she said yes."

"Maybe," George said. "I wonder if she ever got the chance to tell him." George smiled sadly, and Harry understood completely. Fred had been so close to happiness, perhaps without even knowing it, before his life was taken from him. Sometimes the world just really wasn't fair.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The following Monday, there was a surprise in the post during breakfast. Harry, Ginny and Ron were seated around the kitchen table at the Burrow while Mrs Weasley had stepped outside to do some work in the garden.

'Hogwarts letters already?' Ginny asked no one in particular as a school barn owl landed in front of her toast. Two more were flying in through the window – presumably for himself and Ron.

'Bit early, isn't it?' Ron said, taking his letter and offering the owl delivering it a piece of bacon. The bird apparently was hoping to get more because it hung around even after Ginny's had left.

'It's probably because people are wondering whether the school's going to be open or not,' Harry surmised, taking his own letter. His owl did not leave either. 'They'll want to let everyone know it's back up and running before they make other plans.'

'Makes sense,' Ron said, opening his letter. Harry made to do the same but was interrupted by a sudden shriek. He'd drawn his wand and was halfway into a curse before he realized nothing dangerous had happened.

'Blimey!' Ron gasped, gripping his chest. He'd gone for his wand, too. 'Don't do that, Ginny!'

'Sorry,' she said impatiently. 'But there's something wrong. Look!' She held up a small, gleaming piece of metal for them to see. Leaning in a bit, Harry could see it was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain's badge – a badge he knew very well, having one of his own.

'But that's…Harry's captain,' Ron stammered. Harry, for his part, couldn't say much of anything. It was a surprise, and yet…it wasn't. Somehow, going back to being Quidditch captain after everything that happened would feel wrong. And he'd known Ginny would be captain after him, had things gone the way they should have.

'I know!' Ginny said, looking at Harry with a pained expression. 'What's McGonagall playing at?' It took him a moment to realize she was afraid he'd be upset. He couldn't blame her, but it was kind of funny.

'Why don't you read the letter and see?' Harry suggested, suppressing a grin. He didn't want to let on that he found her panic over the whole thing so amusing. For lack of a better option, Ginny followed his advice, reading it aloud.

_Dear Ms Weasley,_

_ Congratulations on making Quidditch captain this year. You may have some_

_questions, and the simple answer is that all students who missed their seventh year of schooling are being offered the chance to return to repeat the year, but_

_are by no means expected to. This of course means that our previous captain _

_may or may not be returning to school and so it is necessary to appoint a new_

_one. If he does indeed return, the captaincy will still be yours to do with what _

_you will. I am sure you will do right by yourself and everyone involved. I look_

_forward to another successful Quidditch year for Gryffindor – particularly _

_after the horrendous events of last year._

_All future matters regarding Quidditch should be addressed with your new _

_Head of House, Professor Hagrid. He was most pleased with your appointment_

_and is anxious to discuss tryout dates with you. _

_ Best Regards,_

_ Minerva McGonagall_

_ Headmistress_

_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

'Hagrid's our new Head of House!' Ron shouted in glee. 'Brilliant!'

'What does she mean you "May or may not be returning to school"?' Ginny asked Harry, looking at him over the parchment. 'Of course you are!'

'That's what I thought,' Harry said, shrugging. 'Apparently it's not a given.'

'Why'd we get letters too, then?' Ron asked, holding up his half-open envelope.

'Search me,' Harry said. 'But I reckon it's got something to do with why the owls that delivered them are still here.'

'I thought it just had its eye on my breakfast,' Ron said, glancing at the owl still sitting next to him.

'Well open them already!' Ginny cried, throwing her hands up into the air. Harry and Ron jumped to obey, as if they'd until this point forgotten what letters were for. He read his in silence, assuming his and Ron's said similar things.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_ I am writing to inform you that you are welcome to return to Hogwarts for_

_ your final year of schooling, as you regrettably missed out last year due to the _

_ war and its unfortunate complications. All students in your year who missed are_

_ being offered this same opportunity, so you can be assured that at least some_

_ familiar faces will be returning with you._

_ If you do not wish to return, I highly recommend you still make arrangements_

_ to sit your N.E.W.T. examinations. Appointments can be made at the Ministry of _

_ Magic or through Hogwarts to sit the exams next spring, as it would already be _

_ too late to sit them this year. If you choose this route, I cannot stress enough how_

_ important it will be for you to prepare thoroughly on your own._

_ Because of the uncertainty surrounding your attendance, I unfortunately had to_

_ choose a new Quidditch captain for Gryffindor. The new captain is someone you_

_ know quite well, and I've no doubt you will approve. Please send a response with_

_ this owl letting me know of your decision or, if you have not yet made up your _

_ mind, a note explaining as such. Be that the case, I would ask for a definitive _

_ answer no later than the 1st of August._

_ I truly hope you decide to return, Harry, but whatever decision you make, I _

_ am sure it will be the right one._

_ Best Regards,_

_ Minerva McGonagall_

_ Headmistress_

_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

'What does it say?' Ginny asked him the moment he was done reading. Ron was still going over his.

'It says we can return to Hogwarts if we want, but even if we don't she thinks it would be a good idea to sit N.E.W.T.s.'

'Bloody hell,' Ron said, looking up from his letter as well. 'They've got to be nightmarish enough even with a year of school to prepare you. Imagine trying to study for them on your own with no one to make you.'

'You'd play Quidditch every day and then try to cram it all in the week before the test,' Ginny told him with a knowing smile. She caught Harry's eye and they both grinned wider. It's likely what he would do, too.

'Day before, more like,' Ron acknowledged. 'And just when I thought sitting out on the last year was sounding like a good idea again.'

Harry and Ron quickly wrote their replies to McGonagall assuring her that they would indeed be returning. However, before they could send them off, another owl came flying through the window.

'What's this one about?' Ron asked Harry, to whom the new owl was holding out a leg.

'No idea,' Harry answered, though the Ministry of Magic seal on the envelope wasn't filling him with pleasant feelings. Even though Kingsley was the Minister for Magic officially now, he still had yet to make many of the changes he'd spoken to Harry and the other Order members about. That being the case, the Ministry were still not among Harry's favourite people.

With Ron and Ginny's eyes on him, he reached out and took the letter. Opening it, he saw neat yet unfamiliar handwriting, though it was addressed to him rather informally. He dropped his eyes to the bottom and let out a sigh of relief.

'It's from Kingsley,' he said. Ron and Ginny both relaxed visibly as well.

'Go on, read it then!' Ron pushed.

_Harry,_

_This letter applies to Ron, Hermione and Ginny too, but I'm addressing it to you because you always showed the strongest interest in becoming an Auror._

'What!' Ron and Ginny both exclaimed.

'Hang on, let me finish it,' Harry told them.

'Sorry.'

'Sorry, mate.'

_You know that entering the Aurors is a long and involved process. The _

_ first major step is a series of stringent personal aptitude and character  
assessments. Most applicants never make it past this stage, and many_

_ drop out part way through. However, the office is currently critically_

_ understaffed, so we're resorting to drastic measures. _

_ As of this morning, Gawain Robards (Head of the Auror Office) and I_

_ have announced that the aptitude tests will be waived for anyone who _

_ took part in the battle of Hogwarts._

'NO WAY!' Ron shouted. 'This is great! We can forget the last year of school after all!'

The same thought had occurred to Harry, and his pulse quickened just thinking about it. Could he really just walk into his dream job, just like that, with no tests or studying or anything?

'Didn't you have enough of chasing Dark wizards last year?' Ginny asked.

'We know you don't want to be an Auror, Gin, but this is brilliant! I mean, I hadn't really planned on joining up right away – a break from Dark wizards _would_ be nice – but if it means I don't have to go back to school or sit N.E.W.T.s, sign me up!'

'Would you let me finish the letter!' Harry broke in, exasperated. He was excited too, but there had to be a catch. It couldn't be that easy.

'Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.'

Harry cleared his throat and continued reading.

_You'll read all about it in today's _Daily Prophet._ However, these are the only requirements being waived. All applicants will still need to sit their N.E.W.T. examinations before being considered._

'NO!' Ron wailed, but clamped his mouth shut when Harry glared at him.

_I'm writing to tell you because despite all that, no one would really argue_

_ if we made an exception for you, Harry. However, I'm also writing to say I think_

_ it would be for the best if you did go back to school this year, or at the very least_

_ studied for the exams on your own. For one thing, while I can make a special _

_ offer for you, I can't do the same for anyone else. That means Ron, Hermione, _

_ Ginny, or anyone else who might want to sign up with you would have to do it _

_ the hard way whether you do or not._

_ Second, I really think you should take a break. You've never really had a_

_ normal school year, and before you sign up to spend the rest of your life chasing_

_ down Dark wizards, you ought to have just one year of normalcy in your life._

_ I'm sure Dumbledore would agree with me, as would Remus, Sirius and your_

_ parents._

_ Third, and I'm not happy about this one but it's the truth, joining up as a_

_ special case may come back to haunt you later in your career. Like it or not, _

_ politics are a part of the job – even if not to the degree of some of the other _

_ departments – and while everyone may be inclined to give you just about_

_ whatever you want right now, that won't always be the case. Years down the line,_

_ people will remember how you joined the department, and whether or not you had_

_ to go through the same process they did. You may find that joining early will in_

_ fact make things very difficult for you in the future._

_ All that being said, it's still your choice, Harry. There are still a lot of Death_

_ Eaters out there, and they need to be brought to justice. But at the same time, they_

_ can't all be caught at once and the Aurors can survive for a year without you._

_Take your time and think about it. Let me know what you decide when you're_

_ready. Good luck, Harry._

_ Best Wishes,_

_ Kingsley_

'Bit informal for the Minister for Magic, don't you think?' Ron joked. 'He didn't even put his last name on there.'

'He wasn't writing as the Minister, Ron, he was writing as Harry's friend,' Ginny explained.

'It's nice to be reminded I have some,' Harry said, putting the letter down.

'Of course you do!' Ginny gasped, looking affronted. Ron looked much the same.

'In the Ministry, I mean,' Harry amended quickly.

'Well, I see what you mean there,' Ron nodded, calming back down. 'What's all this politics rubbish?'

'He means people have short memories,' Harry explained. 'In ten years or so, even if I've proven I'm a good Auror, there will be people saying I got the job because of who I am, not what I can do. It could definitely cause problems.'

'But that's so stupid!' Ginny fumed. 'You're who you are _because_ of what you can do!' She crossed her arms and glared at the letter with her eyebrows knit together. Harry, however, felt a great wave of affection for her and his face cracked into a huge smile. He reached over and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap and embracing her tightly.

Ginny gave surprised squeal of delight even as Ron shouted, 'Oy!' but Harry ignored both of them, choosing instead to place a kiss in the spot between Ginny's jaw and her ear. She giggled happily and wrapped her arms around his neck. She'd begun to nuzzle his jawline when a loud clanking sound across the table drew their attention.

'Do you lot mind?' Ron asked, visibly irritated. 'It's great that you're in love and happy and everything, but that's really not something I want to see my sister doing. Or my best mate, for that matter. Especially not while I'm trying to eat breakfast.'

'Sorry, mate,' Harry said, feeling only a bit sheepish. 'But you've got to take the moments when they come, wherever you are, wouldn't you say?'

Ron rolled his eyes and went back to his food. Ginny stuck her tongue out at her brother before kissing Harry on the cheek and sliding off his lap and back into her own chair – perhaps out of respect for Ron's sensibilities, or much more likely because she was still hungry.

Once he was sure Ginny was back in her own seat, Ron looked up again. 'So what are you going to do about this?' he asked, gesturing to the letter.

'I don't know,' he said. 'I mean, if I have the chance to help I feel like I should take it, but Kingsley did make a good point about the politics thing. Maybe I could join up now and take the N.E.W.T.s later so that way I have them and no one can use that against me.'

'Oh no you don't,' Ginny said sternly. 'You are not going to play the nobility card again. If your only reason for joining the Aurors now is because you feel like you ought to, then it's not good enough. Besides, you heard what else Kingsley said. You should take a year off from all this. The Dark Wizards will still be there for you to catch when you're finished school.

'You need this, Harry. Please, just for once in your life put yourself first. Nobody deserves a break more than you do. Please, please say you won't start fighting again so soon after everything you've been through.'

He wanted to argue with her – to point out that Dark Wizards roaming around was the perfect reason _not _to take a year off. He wanted to tell her how he felt obligated to help as much as he could, that he'd feel like he was cheating someone out of something by taking a year off. He wanted to tell her all of these things but he could not. She was looking at him with that intense, blazing look of hers and it made all the arguments fall right out through a whole in his stomach. She'd said he was being "noble", which was the same thing she'd said when he broke up with her at Dumbledore's funeral.

But mostly, he couldn't refuse her because of how clear she made it that her most pressing concern was _his_ well-being. If she'd begged him to stay with her, or to think of his friends he'd be leaving behind, he might've been able to do what was necessary. But her eyes were starting to glisten with tears – which was something that almost never happened with her – and it was only because she was worried about _him_ and _his_ happiness, not her own. It was what he loved most about her; and if she could do it, then he owed it to her to do the same.

'All right,' he finally said. There had been a long, tense silence – so long that Ginny and Ron didn't seem to remember just what he was agreeing to. 'All right, I won't do it. I'll take a year and go back to school.'

The change was instantaneous. The tension melted out of Ginny's posture and the intense, blazing look on her face transformed into one of shining joy. She launched herself at him and nearly knocked his chair over from the force of her embrace, but he was too lost in the sensation of her lips on his and her tongue in his mouth to care overmuch. He heard Ron mutter something, but didn't bother to wonder what it might have been.

When they separated again, it was to find Ron had left the table with his food, presumably for the garden or the sitting room. When Ginny whispered, 'I love you,' in his ear and gave him one more squeeze and a quick kiss before returning to her own chair once again, he knew she understood that he was doing this for her, because she asked him to.

'You can come back now, Ron,' she called.

'All finished, have you?' came his dry response from the sitting room. 'Don't let me stop you. By all means devour each others' tonsils at the breakfast table.' He re-entered soon after, carrying what was left of his breakfast and looking rather put out at the both of them.

Harry was trying to think of a response when another owl flew through the window, just missing Ron's juice glass.

'Enough with the owls already!' Ron snapped, lunging for his juice. Harry was reminded of Uncle Vernon once voicing similar complaints and had to suppress a chuckle at the strange comparison between two people who could otherwise not be less alike.

'It's just the paper, Ron,' Ginny said calmly, taking said paper and paying the delivery owl so it could be on its way. She unfolded it while Harry performed a reheating charm on her breakfast, which had long gone cold. She smiled at him before turning her attention to the paper.

'It's in here,' she said. 'That thing Kingsley told Harry about. Apparently Auror restrictions being reduced is front-page news.'

'No surprise there,' Harry said. 'I wonder how many people are going to take advantage of it.'

'There can't be too many folks out there as mental as you,' Ron said, 'but I reckon they'll get a decent number. After the war people are going to be a lot more aware of how important Aurors really are.'

'I hope you're right,' Harry said, reheating his own breakfast. 'Kingsley didn't say exactly how few they were down to, but I don't like the sound of "critically understaffed".'

'Neither do I,' Ron agreed, taking a bite of his cold toast. 'Especially when we know there are so many Death Eaters still out there roaming around and MORGANA'S KNICKERS!' he shouted so suddenly that Harry jumped and Ginny's head snapped around. Another owl had landed on the table. But that wasn't what anyone was focusing on at the moment.

'"Morgana's knickers"?' Ginny repeated dryly, almost managing to suppress her laughter. Harry, who was having less success, was now seriously regretting the healthy swig of pumpkin juice he'd just taken.

'I heard it somewhere and thought I'd try it out,' Ron said in a meek tone. His ears were turning red. 'No go, huh?'

'Might wanna pass over that one in future, mate,' Harry choked out once he'd managed to safely swallow his juice.

'Well, all right then,' Ron said, soldiering on. 'Wonder who this one's from.' He picked it up and his demeanor shifted at once. 'It's from Hermione!' He tore into the letter greedily. Save the funeral, they hadn't seen much of Hermione in the last few weeks as she made the necessary preparations for her parents' return.

'What's it say?' Ginny asked, leaning over the table toward him. Ron scanned the letter.

'She says she got the same letters we got, and already replied to McGonagall. She wants to know if we want to meet in Diagon Alley once we get our booklists.'

'When will that be, do you think?' Harry asked.

'I reckon as soon as we say we're going back,' Ron reasoned. 'Ginny's already got hers, right?'

'All right, let's send them now then,' Harry said. He picked up the letter he'd already written for his headmistress and handed it to the owl that had been scratching around next to him for the last half hour or so. It gave him a reproachful look for wasting its time that reminded him of Hedwig, and he felt a pang of sadness as he watched it fly out of sight. When he turned back to the table it was to see Ginny beaming at him.

'What?' he teased, sitting down next to her. 'You didn't think I was going to change my mind, did you?'

'No,' she said simply. 'It just makes me happy to see is all.'

'You two are both mental,' Ron said, shaking his head at their display after sending his own owl away. He picked up Hermione's letter again and started rereading it.

When they finally finished breakfast and started cleaning up, Mrs Weasley had finished working in the garden and joined them in the kitchen.

'What was all that commotion I heard?' she asked.

'Hogwarts letters came,' Ginny said.

'So soon?'

'Harry reckons it's to make sure people don't make other plans, thinking the school will be closed,' Ron explained.

'Oh,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I suppose that makes sense. You have your new booklists then?'

'Ginny has,' Ron told her. 'Harry and I have to wait until McGonagall gets confirmation we're going back.'

'Well why wouldn't you?'

'That's what I said,' Ginny piped in.

'We don't have to if we don't want to, apparently,' Harry said. 'Don't worry, we're going to,' he said quickly when he saw Mrs Weasley about to raise a protest. 'We've already sent our confirmation letters.'

'Oh,' said Mrs Weasley, looking relieved. 'That's all right then.'

'Hopefully they'll get their booklists either tomorrow or later today,' Ginny said. 'Hermione wants to meet up in Diagon Alley to pick up supplies.'

'Well that should be all right,' Mrs Weasley said. 'Let me know when you decide to go so I can go with you.'

'Mum, do you really think that's necessary?' Ron whinged. 'I mean sure, not everything's perfect out there yet, but we can take care of ourselves, yeah?'

'Well excuse me for worrying!' Mrs Weasley snapped. 'It's not as if we've just emerged from a war that killed your brother, and dozens of the people responsible are still out there! How inconsiderate of me!'

'I didn't mean it like that,' Ron said, cowed. 'I just meant that you'll have to let up eventually or you'll worry yourself to death.' Harry was sure that wasn't what he'd meant at all, though it at least sounded heartfelt now he had thought of it. 'Harry and I are of age, and Ginny near enough. Besides, you know we'd never let anything happen to her.'

'I can take care of myself too, you know,' Ginny put in – both to Ron and her mother.

'We know,' Harry told her, thinking of when he'd seen her fighting during the final battle. She truly had been incredible. 'And Diagon Alley is about as safe as it can be right now,' Harry said to Mrs Weasley. 'Kingsley has Aurors and Hit Wizards there round the clock.'

'Well, be that as it may…' Mrs Weasley said, though Harry could tell she was wavering.

'Trust us, Mum,' Ron said, much more calmly than before. He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. 'You really do need to start easing up, or you'll worry forever. And if anything _does_ happen,' he paused and shot a cheeky grin in Harry's direction, 'well, Harry and I do have some experience with getting out of trouble.'

He could see Mrs Weasley mulling it over. Finally she said, 'All right. But you tell me the instant you plan on being home, and if you're going to be a minute later I want a message explaining why and where you'll be.'

'Mum!' Ron threw up his hands. 'Do you expect us to carry an owl around with us all day?'

'That's my condition,' Mrs Weasley said firmly, placing her hands on her hips. 'Take it or leave it.'

Ron was about to protest, but Harry put up his hand. He'd just gotten an idea. 'Hold on a second,' he said. 'I want to try something. I'll be right back.' And three bewildered stares followed him out the door and into the garden where he walked around the house and out of their line of sight.

'I should've asked somebody how this was done,' he said to himself, though he thought he had a fair idea. He drew his wand and incanted, '_Expecto Patronum!'_ The silver stag burst forth, but with no given objective simply stood before him. Harry held his wand on it while concentrating on Ginny, and thought the message, '_I'm coming back in a minute. Let me know if this worked.'_ He gave the wand a little flick as if he were smacking the stag's hindquarters, and it galloped off, taking the form of a flying ball of silver light after a half dozen steps.

Harry counted out a minute and walked back into the house where three smiling faces were waiting for him.

'It worked!' Ginny told him excitedly. 'That was brilliant, Harry!'

'It was!' Ron agreed. 'How did you do that?'

'I was never able to manage it myself,' Molly told him. 'Did Arthur or Bill teach you?'

'No, I kind of puzzled it out for myself. I've seen it often enough.'

'Blimey,' Ron said. 'When did you turn into Hermione?'

'Who did it go to?' he asked, though he was sure he knew.

'Me, why?' Ginny asked.

'Well, I'm still figuring out how it all works, but I meant for it to go to you,' he said. 'Looks like I got that bit right.'

'You have to show me this, mate,' Ron said fervently.

'Me too!' Ginny agreed.

'Yes yes, that would be very useful,' Molly said offhandedly. 'But now you have a means of sending me word, so I suppose it's all right for you to go to London yourselves. Merlin knows I must be out of my mind to allow it.'

'We'll be careful, Mum,' Ginny assured her.

'Oh, I know you will, dear. And your brother's right; I do need to let go eventually. It's the most difficult thing for a mother to do, I imagine. Especially after…well, you know.'

Harry thought she was doing a rather good job of it, but didn't really know how to say so, so he merely offered her an encouraging smile instead.

'Well, since you aren't leaving just yet, I'd like some help with cleaning the house. There were a lot of people here over the weekend for your brother's funeral and they do leave a trace.'

They spend the rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon cleaning. Harry and Ron's booklists came a few hours after lunch while they were cleaning Ron's room, and Harry immediately sent off a Patronus to Hermione asking if she wanted to go to Diagon Alley the next day.

'Can you do it nonverbally?' Ron asked. He seemed interested to know that there was no difference in the incantation from a standard Patronus. 'I've seen members of the Order do that.'

'Well, I don't know,' Harry answered honestly. 'I've never even thought of trying to conjure one nonverbally. Though usually when I'm trying it's because I'm being surrounded by Dementors, so subtlety isn't exactly an issue.'

'Good point,' Ron agreed. 'Wanna try it though?'

'Of course,' Harry grinned. He thought of Ginny again, who had been sent off to straighten her own room. This had the added convenience of doubling as his happy thought, which made the spell easier to cast as he wasn't dividing his focus. After a few seconds a silvery ball shot through Ron's bedroom door and down the stairs.

'What'd you tell her?'

'To come up and let me know if it worked.'

'Fair warning, Potter,' Ron declared. 'There's a standing rule against snogging my sister in my bedroom.'

'Noted.'

Less than a minute later they heard Ginny ascending the staircase. She opened the door with a wide smile on her face. She made a beeline for Harry and hugged him tight, positioning her lips right next to his ear.

'I love you too,' she whispered. Harry of course had not related the entirety of the message to Ron.

She slid back and kissed him, which resulted in an indignant cry of, 'Oy! What did I say, huh?'

Harry waited for Ginny to pull back before turning to smirk at Ron. 'Better tell her that, mate.'

'Tell me what?'

'Apparently we're not allowed to snog in here,' Harry informed her, amused.

'Oh _really_?' Ginny said, narrowing her eyes at Ron. He glared back, and Harry fought not to laugh.

'Well, it is his room,' he offered. Ginny pondered this for a moment, and then snorted.

'Fine,' she said. 'I'll let him have his room. But that doesn't mean I have to let go of you,' she declared, and wrapped herself tighter around him even as he sat back down on Ron's bed.

'Not on my bed!' Ron wailed.

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Relax. It's not as if we're _doing_ anything.' Ron fumed, but did not argue.

'Fine. Whatever. The Patronus worked, then?'

'Well yes,' she said, 'but we already knew that, didn't we?'

'I was trying for nonverbal this time,' Harry informed her.

'Really?' Her eyes lit up with excitement. 'Oh, that's so cool, Harry! You _have_ to show us how to do this.'

'It didn't really look any different from how he normally conjures one,' Ron said. 'The incantation was the same and everything.'

'I thought you said you did this one nonverbally,' Ginny said to Harry.

'I sent one to Hermione just before.'

'Oh.'

'So what _do_ you do differently, Harry?' Ron asked. He and Ginny turned their attention to him once again.

'Well, I sort of…hold the spell a bit once I've conjured it,' he explained. 'And then I concentrate on who I want to send the message to, think of the message, and then I just,' he mimed flicking his wand, 'send it on its way. It's tough to focus on all of that at once, so the message has to be pretty short. But that's all there is to it, really.'

'Blimey,' Ron said. 'As if keeping your happy thought in your head wasn't hard enough. How are you supposed to think about all of that at once?'

'I think it gets easier with practice,' Harry said. 'I used to have to concentrate really hard when conjuring a Patronus, but I can do it almost without thinking now. And every time I send a message with one it gets easier to do.'

'Well that's good to know,' Ginny said. 'I don't know if it would be worth the trouble otherwise.'

'It's easier to send messages to you,' Harry told her, 'since you double as my happy thought.'

The smile Harry loved so much reappeared on her face once more, and the look in her eyes she reserved for only him that made his blood pump faster and his skin prickle with electricity was back in full force. He didn't know if he would ever outgrow the heady rush that being around her brought about in him. He didn't think he would.

'OY!'

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The next morning, they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron a full hour before they were supposed to meet Hermione. There was something that needed to be taken care of before any shopping was done, and it was something Harry wasn't looking forward to. He'd been putting it off, but there was no stalling now.

'I still don't see why we can't all come with you,' Ron was saying even as Harry tapped the brick that would lead them into Diagon Alley. 'I mean, we were all there.'

'That's exactly why. I'm going to take responsibility for it,' Harry said. 'Don't even argue about it, Ron. You know I can take whatever they throw at me better than either of you can.' He hated using that card, knowing Ron wasn't going to like it, and indeed he was right. Ron made a very angry face, but he conceded the point.

'Fine,' he said. 'But if you're not out of there by the time Hermione gets here, we're going in after you.'

Harry knew better than to argue, and after sharing a kiss with Ginny for luck, made his way through the now open archway while they went back into the pub to wait for Hermione.

Diagon Alley was once again different than he'd ever seen it. Most of the shops were still closed up, but there were people again, and the aura of fear was no longer present among them. The kiosks strewn all about had all but disappeared, and the Aurors and Hit Wizards were a noticeable but not overbearing presence.

He walked past Ollivander's shop and noticed there was a team of three wizards straightening the place up and taking inventory. He hoped that meant Mr Ollivander was well enough to reopen the shop in time for all the new students who would soon be coming to buy their first wands.

A few other shops here and there were reopening as well, and the sense in the air was of new life. It was refreshing and it lifted his spirits even in the face of the task he was about to undergo.

He approached the grand white building with its mighty bronze doors carefully. The two goblins standing outside gave him very dirty looks but did not bar him entry. He hoped this wasn't simply because they were waiting to get him inside where he'd be surrounded.

When he passed through the silver doors, several beady eyes turned to look in his direction and nearly all ambient conversation ceased. It was quite eerie. Then a gravely voice called out, 'Harry Potter!' and he turned to see a finely dressed goblin with a long pointy black beard scampering over to him. 'Golnuk would like to see you immediately.'

Harry had no idea who Golnuk was, but judging by the gruff-looking goblins who had come up on either side of him, he wasn't being given a choice in the matter. He'd been expecting something like this to happen, but that didn't stop him from being more than a little nervous.

'Lead the way,' he said simply, and the goblin turned and began leading him behind the row of counters to an area Harry had never been before. His two escorts kept pace and did not say a word. They came to a pair of large ebony double doors inlaid with gold and entered without preamble. Sitting inside behind a massive mahogany desk was the most posh looking goblin Harry had every seen. His black beard was oiled and pointed, he wore a suit that would impress even Uncle Vernon, and had three gold hoops in each of his long, pointed ears.

'Ah! Harry Potter at last has returned, I see. Very well, Gordunk, you may leave us.' The goblin who'd led Harry to this room bowed and left, but the other two did not, instead taking up places on either side of the door.

'Have a seat, Harry Potter,' Golnuk said, gesturing to an uncomfortable looking chair in front of his desk. It was not an invitation, and Harry got the distinct impression that were he not to do as he was told he'd find out what those other two goblins were there for.

'We were wondering if you would ever dare return to our halls, Mr. Potter,' Golnuk said. He surveyed Harry over his clasped hands with knitted eyebrows and a hard, piercing gaze. Harry didn't speak, knowing there was more coming and he was probably only going to get one chance, so he should make it count.

'Griphook has told us of your plot to rob the Lestranges' vault,' Golnuk said. He waited then, apparently to see if Harry would admit or deny the charge.

'Did he also tell you that I did not seek any of their gold or treasure, nor anything else for my own personal gain?'

'He did,' Golnuk confirmed. 'Which is the sole reason you were not ordered captured on sight. However, I have to wonder what it was then that made you break into one of our oldest, most high-security vaults.'

Harry thought about how he should answer. Before, he couldn't mention the Horcruxes to anyone for fear Voldemort might find out what he was doing. Now though, he still hesitated to discuss them lest they give any other potential Dark wizards ideas.

'I'll tell you, but I have to ask that you allow me to cast a charm so that no one may overhear us,' he said. 'Those two guards, if that's what they are, can stay, but they can't hear either.'

Golnuk raised his thick eyebrows. 'You are hardly in a position to be setting terms, Mr Potter,' he said.

'No, but I'm afraid I must insist. I can assure you my answer will satisfy you, however.'

There was a long pause. Finally, Golnuk said, 'Very well. But any sign of treachery, Harry Potter, and it will be the end of our discussion.' He left no doubt as to what that meant. 'Do you understand?'

'Completely,' Harry said. He pulled out his wand and cast the _Muffliato_ spell, so now only Golnuk could hear what he was about to say.

'You know that the Lestranges were among Voldemort's most loyal followers,' Harry said. Golnuk only gave the smallest of shivers before responding.

'Yes, but that hardly justifies theft from their vault, Harry Potter.'

'I wasn't finished. Voldemort gave something to them to put into that vault. He knew it was one of the safest places in the world, where there was almost no chance anyone would ever find it, if they even knew to look. What he gave them was an object that kept him alive, protecting him from all forms of death. Without finding and destroying that object, Voldemort could never have been defeated. That is why I broke into the Lestranges' vault.'

Golnuk sat frozen in his seat. Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it clearly wasn't that. After several moments of silence, he worked his jaw a few times and finally managed to speak.

'You spoke the truth, Harry Potter. If this is indeed the case, as I am inclined to believe it is based on Griphook's testimony of the events in the vault, then I do indeed find your explanation to be satisfactory. However, there are a few other matters which we must discuss, not the least of which being the damage you and your friends caused to Gringotts during your escape.'

Harry had been expecting this, and he had already decided how he was going to handle it. 'I'll pay for all the repairs,' he said immediately. 'You know I inherited the Black family vault in addition to my own. Take whatever gold you need from there to pay for any damage caused, along with an additional five percent as a means of apology and thanks for the goblins' understanding.

Golnuk looked just as surprised at this as he had regarding the Horcrux. 'Very generous of you. It shall be as you say, Harry Potter, and as to your additional contribution, you have Gringotts' gratitude.

'There is now one more matter we must discuss. Due to your earlier information, our former employee Griphook can be excused for his involvement in your actions. However, he informed us of a bargain he made with you, which he claims you attempted to renege on.'

'I know what he's talking about,' Harry said. 'He wanted the sword of Gryffindor in exchange for helping us. I said I would give it to him and I meant it. But when we were in the vault, the enchantments protecting the treasure got out of control and we barely escaped. I tried to save the sword and Griphook must have thought I was going back on our deal because he snatched it and ran off.'

'One can see how he would think as much,' Golnuk said. 'Why did you attempt to retrieve the sword when the bargain was complete and you said you intended to give him the sword?'

'I was going to give him the sword, but we needed to use it first to destroy the object I told you about. The sword is impregnated with basilisk venom and is one of the only things in the world capable of destroying it. We were going to do it as soon as we left the vault but we didn't get a chance.'

'I see,' Golnuk said. 'If I may ask, how _did_ you end up destroying this object?'

'We…er, kind of used an actual basilisk fang.' Golnuk's eyebrows rose their highest yet. 'Long story,' Harry said.

'Indeed,' Golnuk stated bluntly. 'In light of what you have told me, Harry Potter, and given that no other treasure _was_ taken from the Lestranges' vault, I am inclined to believe you. There is no doubt that we goblins owe you just as much for destroying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as all other races, and if breaking into a Gringotts vault was necessary to accomplish this, I suppose I can overlook it _this once_.' His added emphasis on the end of that statement would have been more effective than the poem over the entrance to deter thieves, Harry thought.

'Thank you,' Harry said. 'I appreciate it. If you'll excuse me, I do need to visit my vault today, if that's possible.'

'Not so fast, Harry Potter,' Golnuk said abruptly and Harry jerked in the middle of standing up. He had thought Golnuk was going to let him go. He began calculating his chances of fighting his way out of a bank full of angry goblins a second time, this time without a dragon to help him.

'You have been forthright with me, so I shall return the favor,' the goblin said. 'We have something for you – something that should have been given to you after your seventeenth birthday, but circumstances at the time did not allow it. We were going to keep it as compensation for your actions here in the spring, but it seems that is no longer necessary.'

He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a long, ornate silver key. 'You vault key, Harry Potter,' he said simply, holding it out to Harry.

'But I already have a vault key,' Harry said, confused.

'You have the key to your trust vault, which your parents set up for you when you were born. It was to be for your schooling and other needs until you came of age and inherited your family's vault. Your father and mother's untimely deaths simply mean that is happening much sooner than they had planned.'

'My…my family's vault?' Harry stammered, stricken by this information.

'Yes, Harry Potter. Your family has been with us for a very long time. Not as long as some families, perhaps, but longer than most. Inside you will find, in addition to your family's gold, a large number of heirlooms and the deed to your family's ancestral home.' He handed the key over to Harry, who was too dumbstruck even to repeat that last bit, which would have been his instinct.

'That will be all, I believe, Harry Potter,' Golnuk said. 'I will see you out, and if you will kindly remove the charm you cast earlier, I bid you good day. We will remove the gold needed for repairs from the Black vault as you instructed and leave this vault untouched.'

'No, wait,' Harry said, coming to his senses at last. 'That vault will be Teddy's someday. Take the gold from mine instead.'

'Are you certain?'

'Absolutely. Thank you, Golnuk.' He shook the goblin's hand and after removing the _muffliato _he'd cast earlier, made his way across the main floor in a daze to the counter, holding his new key in his hand.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

That's it for chapter two. If you like it, or have any other comments, please review.

Goblin names are harder than you would think to come up with.


	3. Chapter 3: No Snakes Allowed

Nothing much to say as we head into chapter three. In fact, it's entirely possible I'm only putting a note up here for aesthetic purposes, and for the sake of consistency. I am nothing if not a slave to tradition.

**Chapter 3**

**No Snakes Allowed**

Harry was halfway to the counter when he realized what he was doing. He didn't have time to go all the way down into Gringotts and come back out again before meeting Ron, Ginny and Hermione. And with his family's vault, something left to him not just by his parents but by all his ancestors, he wanted – _needed_ – to make the first visit alone.

He pocketed the key and turned abruptly, heading for the exit. He still had a short while before the deadline Ron and Ginny set whereupon they'd come storming in after him, but he didn't have anywhere else he particularly wanted to go by himself, so he headed back to the alley to the Leaky Cauldron to join them.

Along the way, people would stop in the streets to stare and point at him, or whisper to their friends, or even greet him enthusiastically and offer their gratitude. Harry had experienced this type of behavior since his introduction to the wizarding world – most strongly after he first arrived before everyone became used to his presence – but never had he experienced it so strongly as he did that morning in Diagon Alley.

In the two and a half months since the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had been dividing his time between helping with the restoration of Hogwarts, helping first the Weasleys fight for a Hogwarts memorial plot for the fallen and after losing that fight, planning a funeral. He'd been mixing in as much time with Ginny as he possibly could, as well as practicing Quidditch with her and Ron, which led him to the conclusion that he really needed a new broom. All of this had been done not only because he wanted to, but because he'd been trying to avoid precisely the kind of attention he was receiving now.

And yet, as awkward as it felt being the center of attention in a busy street while the crowds parted wherever he walked, as uncomfortable as he was the fifth, sixth, and seventh times attractive young witches came up to him and thanked him _so much _for everything he did and told him they would do _anything_ to repay him – he felt an odd sense of pride as well. This wasn't the same as being the Boy Who Lived, famous for something he couldn't even remember and had absolutely no control over. No, this was something he, Harry, had actually set out to do and accomplished.

So even as he politely endured another parent excitedly bringing their young child over to meet him, and nervously told the smiling blonde girl with the _very_ nice figure that he was sorry, but he had a girlfriend whom he loved very much, he felt glad that he had been able to help all these people and thought that, for a little while at least, he could put up with the attention if it made them happy.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

'You're looking chipper,' Ron told him a few minutes later as he sat down with them in the pub and took the butterbeer proffered to him. 'Goblins decide not to murder you, then?'

'What?' Harry asked, momentarily forgetting why he'd been gone in the first place. 'Oh, yeah. In fact,' he grinned in full now, remembering just how well the meeting had gone, 'all is forgiven, apparently. They're letting Griphook off the hook as well and it won't be an issue anymore.'

'Bloody hell!' Ron exclaimed. 'You ruddy get away with everything! You didn't Imperius one of them again, did you?'

'Of course not!' Harry cried quickly. 'I just explained exactly what it was we were doing. You know, without saying _exactly_ what it was we were doing. I don't think it would be a good idea to talk about all the details, if you know what I mean.'

'Right,' agreed Ron, taking a swig of his butterbeer. 'Last thing we need is to make a _How to Be a Dark Lord in Three Easy Steps_ handbook.'

'So you're really not in any trouble with them?' Ginny asked, sliding her chair over and cozying up to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

'None at all. Ron and Hermione are in the clear, too.' He was tempted to tell them about his vault, but he still wanted to visit it himself first. He could make it a surprise at some point later on.

'I don't know how you do it, mate,' Ron said, shaking his head and chuckling. 'Only you could rob bloody Gringotts and come out looking better for it.'

They talked for a little while longer and were on their second round of butterbeer when Hermione entered the pub. She looked around for a moment and smiled when she saw them, hurrying over to the booth they'd chosen.

'Harry!' she exclaimed excitedly as she hugged him (after Ron, of course). 'How long have you been able to do a talking patronus?'

Harry sat back down as she joined them. 'About a day,' he told her, and related the process by which he'd deduced how to make one.

'That truly is amazing, Harry,' she said, accepting the butterbeer Ron had ordered for her. 'I'd like to see you cast it at some point if you don't mind.'

'You'll likely get to see me cast it today,' he said, explaining about Mrs Weasley's condition for letting them travel alone. Hermione laughed.

'Yes well, you can hardly blame her, can you?' she said. 'Under the circumstances I doubt my parents would want me wandering around alone either.' Immediately after she said it, a shadow of sadness washed over her face, but she quickly covered it up with another smile.

'How are things coming, Hermione?' Ginny asked quickly.

'Oh, wonderfully!' Hermione said, back to being excited again. 'I think I've got all the particulars taken care of, and they'll be able to restart their practice and everything once they're back.'

'Do you really need to wait longer to get them?' Ron asked her then. 'I mean, if everything's ready, we could go get them now, couldn't we?' Hermione smiled at him fondly.

'You're sweet, Ron,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. 'I still need to double-check and make sure I haven't missed anything. All of their friends are going to wonder where they've been of course, and I need to make sure the story is air-tight. Besides, I wouldn't dream of separating these two at the moment,' she gestured to Harry and Ginny, who were currently holding hands with their fingers intertwined and making eyes at each other at frequent intervals throughout the conversation. 'We agreed we'd go after Ginny's birthday, so that's what we'll do.'

'Don't worry about us, Hermione,' Ginny said encouragingly. 'Your parents are more important.' Harry nodded emphatically; he wanted his friend to be happy and part of a whole family again more than he wanted a holiday in Australia.

'No,' Hermione shook her head firmly. 'I need both of you for this,' she said, looking to Ron and Harry, 'and I'd really like for you to be there as well,' she added to Ginny. 'I don't know that I'm strong enough to do it without all of you.'

'Hermione, you're strong enough to take on the whole world without any of us,' Ron assured her. 'You may not want to – why would you? – but you could do it; I've no doubt. But if this is how you want it, that's how we'll do it.'

She smiled at him and kissed him again, and then it was decided that they should get a move on.

The way back to Gringotts saw people accosting not just Harry, but Ron and Hermione as well. Evidently the parts they'd played in Voldemort's downfall were becoming well-known also. They were both clearly taken off-guard by this, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at the looks on their faces: Hermione as flustered as he'd ever seen her, and Ron as though he'd just been whacked soundly on the head with a Beater's bat.

'Is this what it's like for you all the time?' Ron asked Harry after the third young couple that had asked to take a picture with them departed.

'Not quite this bad,' Harry grinned, happy to have someone to share the spotlight with for once. 'I expect it'll die down in a few weeks.'

'The three of you together are probably a bigger draw than you would be alone, too,' Ginny said.

'You're probably right about that,' Hermione agree. 'I wonder if it was a good idea for us to come together after all.'

'Oh, come off it, Hermione,' Ron said, throwing his arm around her. 'We're not going to stop spending time together just because a bunch of barmy gawkers get a thrill out of seeing us. They can sod off for all I care.' Harry was somewhat surprised to hear this from Ron, who up until this point had clearly been enjoying the attention, even if he was baffled by it.

'Yes, well,' Hermione stammered, looking quite pleased and tugging Ron's arm tighter around herself. 'I simply meant that it's going to be difficult to get anything done.'

'You'll just have to get used to it, I suppose,' Ginny said. 'While I suspect Harry's right that it'll die down after a while, you're probably going to be famous for the rest of your lives.'

Neither Ron nor Hermione had anything to say to that, but from the looks on their faces this was probably the first time that had really occurred to either of them. Harry didn't know what to say either, so they simply pressed on through the crowd.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry's second trip to Gringotts that day was a rather lackluster affair. He was worried that one of the goblins might bring up his new vault, but none of them said a thing and before he knew it they were back on the streets again and shopping for school supplies.

'Who needs what?' Ron asked, glancing at their lists and surveying the shops in the alley.

'We'll all need new robes, I suspect,' Harry said.

'Well, Ginny and I haven't really grown so I don't think we'll need any,' Hermione replied. Harry thought privately that they had both grown plenty, but somehow didn't think that was what she had been talking about.

'Actually,' Ginny piped in, 'most of my robes got pretty torn up last year. I'd like some new ones if possible.'

'Oh right, of course,' Hermione stammered.

'First stop Madam Malkin's, then?' Ron proclaimed, and led them off down the alley. The others shrugged and traipsed after him.

Another surprise awaited them in the robe shop. Quite aside from all the onlookers, Harry encountered something else he hadn't counted on. Despite practically begging to be allowed to pay for them, Madam Malkin was hearing none of it and insisted their robes were on the house. In the end, despite Ron saying he was mad, he managed to haggle her up to half price, on the condition that he pay for all of it since he felt it really wasn't fair to make his friends give up a free gift just because he didn't want one.

'Honestly, you're being silly, Harry,' Hermione told him as they left the shop.

'Decent of you not to drag us into your mad notions, though,' Ron said grinning. 'I suppose I get free robes out of it either way, so if you want to be a git about it, feel free.'

'I just don't feel right about it, Hermione,' he said. 'Even if it is just honest gratitude, I don't feel right about taking free stuff when so many other people can't afford it at all.' He knew that was a sensitive subject for Ron and Ginny and hoped he hadn't upset them. Fortunately, they seemed to understand him well enough by this point not to be bothered by it.

'I know what he means, Hermione,' Ginny said. 'To be honest, I felt a little uncomfortable accepting it as well, seeing as I hardly did anything compared to you three. She only offered because I was with you and she didn't want to be rude.'

'You may be right about that last part,' Harry conceded, 'but don't ever say you didn't do anything.' He made his voice as serious as he could and locked eyes with her. 'You were as much a part of that battle as anyone and even before, you worked with Neville and Luna at the school to keep hope alive. You may not be famous for it, but what you did is no less important than what we did.'

'I'm going to have to disagree with you on that one, Potter,' she told him with a sidelong expression. 'But if you want to heap praises on me I'm not going to stop you, either.'

They went shopping for books next, and quite literally had to drag Hermione out an hour later when she had amassed a pile of books so tall even Ron couldn't see over it.

'But I haven't bought a new book in over a year!' she wailed at them as they pulled her out of the store.

'You've gotta pace yourself, love,' Ron told her as they hit the street again. 'Even Harry couldn't afford to buy that whole stack in one go.'

'We can come back another time, Hermione,' Ginny said. 'Once I get my apparition license I'll be able to come here whenever I want, and we won't need to bring these two.' She jerked her head at Harry and Ron.

'Oh, all right,' Hermione finally conceded. 'At least I got my school books and enough light reading to tide me over until Australia.'

They hit the apothecary next, as none of them were anywhere near full up on potion supplies. They also went by Quality Quiddich Supplies so Harry could buy a new broom.

'Last one we've got in stock,' the clerk said as he handed over Harry's brand new Firebolt. 'Lucky you came in when you did. Don't know how many more of those we're going to see this year. Their manufacture was disrupted during the war.'

Ron gazed in wonder at the broom as if he'd never seen one before, despite having ridden on Harry's old one numerous times.

'How the bloody hell did you afford that? You didn't bring that much gold with you.'

'I just told them to take it from my vault,' Harry explained.

'Oh, right, you've got Sirius's money now too,' Ron remembered. 'Handy, that.' Harry did not correct him.

'You're going to be my seeker, right Harry?' Ginny asked him in a voice that was too cute to be taken seriously.

'Do you really want a former captain on the team?' Harry joked. 'Could lead to power struggles and all sorts of trouble.'

'I think I can handle it,' she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

'I dunno, I've been told I'm quite the troublemaker.' He leaned down and locked eyes with her, waggling his eyebrows.

'I'll straighten you out,' she told him huskily, glaring up at him from under her brows and grinning.

'I'd love to see you try,' he fired back, bending down to lock eyes with her.

'Hey look, Ollivander's is open!' Ron announced suddenly with great enthusiasm. Ginny and Harry rolled their eyes but humored him.

'Yeah, I saw some people setting it up this morning on my way to the bank,' Harry said, standing back upright. 'Wasn't open yet, though.'

'We should go and see him!' Hermione declared.

'Er, okay,' said Harry, who still wasn't very comfortable around the old wandmaker. He looked at Ron, who shrugged, and the four of them made their way over to the wand shop.

Upon entering, they encountered a young boy sweeping the floor. Harry was sure he'd seen the boy at Hogwarts, but couldn't place him beyond being reasonably certain he wasn't in Gryffindor.

The boy looked up at them, and Harry had a brief flash of a group of students rushing down the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower to see Alecto Carrow's stunned from. 'Hi,' he greeted them. He clearly recognized them, judging from the way his eyes widened, but he was good enough not to make a big deal out of it.

'Er, we were coming to see Mr. Ollivander,' Ron said.

'Sure,' said the boy. 'Hang on, I'll get him for you.' He propped up the broom he'd been using and retreated to the back of the store.

'I recognize that boy, I think,' Hermione said.

'Really?' Ron asked. 'I've never seen him before.'

'Of course you have Ron, he's obviously old enough to go to Hogwarts,' Hermione said.

'Yeah, him and a few hundred other kids around his age. You don't expect me to keep track of all of them, do you?'

'No, but as a prefect it wouldn't hurt you to put in more of an effort.'

'He's in Ravenclaw,' Harry cut in. When Ron and Hermione looked at him questioningly, he explained. 'I'm pretty sure I remember seeing him the night before the battle when I went up there with Luna. He was one of the ones poking at Carrow after she got stunned.'

'I like him already,' Ron announced.

'Ah, Mr Potter!' Ollivander declared as he emerged from the back of his shop. 'And Mr Weasley and Miss Granger! Truly a pleasure to see you three again. And you too of course, Miss Weasley. I hope you'll excuse me, the shop isn't exactly fully restored at the moment. Young Sieffre here is helping me organize things while I work with my nephew.'

'Your nephew?' Harry asked.

'Yes, my nephew Marcus,' Ollivander said. He sighed deeply. 'Recent events have convinced me that it is finally nearing time for me to retire. My late brother's grandson will be inheriting the shop and carrying it on in my stead.'

'Diagon Alley won't be the same without you, sir,' Ginny said. The old man smiled.

'That's very kind of you to say, my dear. Marcus will do fine, I think. He has after all been studying wandlore for over a decade now. But that's for another day. How can I help all of you? I presume you three require replacement wands after that dreadful business at the manor house?' He addressed Harry, Hermione and Ron.

'Actually, the Ministry was able to recover both Ron's and Hermione's wands and returned them,' Harry explained. And then sudden inspiration hit him and he was glad they'd decided to come here after all. 'But if you could,' he said, 'I'd like you to take a look at mine.' He pulled out his holly and phoenix feather wand and handed it to the wandmaker, whose eyes opened wide as he sucked in a great breath.

'But this is impossible!' he said, turning the wand over in his hand, examining it. 'Your wand was snapped in two, Mr Potter! I saw it myself!' He gave it a quick wave, sending silver sparks out the end and gasped again, as if he still didn't believe what he was seeing. Finally, he gripped it tight and looked up at Harry. 'It's in perfect working order,' he announced. 'As good as the day I sold it to you seven years ago. How can this be?'

'The item we discussed the last time we spoke,' Harry started, not wanting to go blathering on about the Elder wand in the middle of a shop, 'is capable of incredible things; not just violence.'

Harry hadn't thought it was possible for Mr Ollivander to look any more astonished, but he was wrong.

'You have it? It's real?' Harry was strongly reminded of Xenophilius Lovegood at that moment, but at least Ollivander retained the sense not to name it out loud.

'It's real, but I don't have it,' Harry lied. He thought of Gregorovich, and figured the less Ollivander knew about the location and ownership of the Elder Wand, the better. 'But if my wand really is fixed, then it apparently lives up to its legend.'

'Yes. Yes, so it would seem,' Ollivander stammered. 'Such a pity you were not able to procure the item itself. To be able to study it…well, it no longer matters, I suppose. Can I be of any further use to you?'

'Thank you, but that was all. We just wanted to see if you were settling back in okay,' Harry said. Mr Ollivander bowed them out of his shop and the four of them left the shop and began meandering back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

'Would it really have been so bad to have let the poor old bloke have a look at it?' Ron asked after they'd walked for a bit.

'I think it's safer for him if he has no idea where it is,' Harry said. 'Remember Gregorovich, after all.'

'Oh, right,' Ron nodded. 'Good thinking, Harry. We wouldn't want to get him in trouble again.'

Ginny had been watching this conversation with interest, as well as Harry's earlier one with the wandmaker. 'Are any of you planning on explaining what it is you're on about?' she asked finally. 'Who's Gregorovich? And what's this item you keep talking about? Do I get to know?'

'Oh!' Harry said. 'I guess I kind of glossed over that bit when I told you what happened last year. It was almost kind of a side-story so I wasn't really thinking about it. I'll tell you when we get home.'

'Harry,' Hermione said, as though something just occurred to her, 'it might be too late to keep it a secret. You did talk about it in your duel with Riddle, remember?' Harry thought back, and realized he was right. Just as he was about to curse himself for his carelessness, Ginny saved him.

'Is this about what you mumbled to Voldemort after you talked about Snape and your mom?' she asked. 'Because a lot of us were trying to figure out what you said that led to that last curse.'

'You mean you couldn't hear?' Harry asked.

'Not really,' she said. 'You got really quiet there near the end. There was something about a wand, and Malfoy, but other than that I have no idea. I suppose someone may have heard you, but from what I've heard no one really knows what you were talking about at that point.'

'Hmm,' Hermione pondered. 'Maybe I was able to pick up on it because I already knew what you were saying?'

'I hope so,' Harry said. 'Otherwise, keeping it a secret from Ollivander won't really make much of a difference.'

They had mostly finished their shopping by that point, so Harry sent a patronus to Mrs Weasley saying they were going to go out to dinner. They opted to eat in muggle London to avoid the crowds, and Ginny was both excited and nervous as she'd never eaten in a muggle restaurant before.

'They're not all that different from magical restaurants, really,' Ron told her as they found a small place the next street up from the Leaky Cauldron. 'It's just keeping track of the muggle money that's tough, and we've got these two for that,' he said, gesturing to Harry and Hermione.

'Spoken like a true expert,' Hermione teased. 'How many muggle places have you visited with us now, Ron?'

'Shut up,' he grumbled, though he was grinning. Ginny laughed and threw her arms around Harry, who hugged her back as they walked and could not remember the last time he'd ever felt so carefree and content. Or indeed, if he ever had at all.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

They stopped by Grimmauld Place after eating, where they had to apologize profusely to Kreacher for denying him the opportunity to feed them. Ginny insisted on looking into some more of the restoration, in which she had not yet been able to take part, so after another patronus to Mrs Weasley, they started poking around to see what would be the next thing to go after.

'How about that mad portrait?' Ron suggested at once. 'Did we ever come up with something to do with that?'

'No,' Harry said. 'I still don't even know how to get it down.'

'Maybe Kreacher would know,' Ginny suggested.

'I thought of that,' Harry said, 'but I don't want to offend him by asking. You know how devoted he was to her.'

'Well, what if you just offered to give it to him?'

As soon as she said it, it seemed at once the most brilliant and obvious thing in the world. Apparently, Hermione agreed.

'That's genius, Ginny!' she exclaimed. A little too loudly, as the portrait they'd been discussing awoke at the outburst and began screaming obscenities at them.

'FILTH! SCUM! BLOOD TRAITORS AND MUGGLE SLIME! HOW DARE YOU SET FOOT IN THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!'

'Kreacher!' Harry called, even as he and Ron wrestled the curtains closed once again, accompanied by Hermione's wincing apologies and Ginny's giggles. The elf immediately appeared before them.

'Master called for Kreacher?' the elf intoned, bowing low. 'How can Kreacher be of service?'

'Actually Kreacher, I wanted to ask you something,' Harry said. 'You know Mrs Black's portrait can sometimes be a distraction, and that a permanent sticking charm keeping it on the wall. Ginny thought that if you could help us to get it down, you might like to have it for yourself.'

It took them nearly twenty minutes to calm Kreacher down and stop him from throwing his arms around Ginny's legs, sobbing hysterically. Once they did, however, he removed the portrait quite easily and took it away somewhere. Harry didn't ask where, and frankly didn't really want to know.

'Beats my idea,' Ron said when elf and portrait were finally gone.

'What was that, Ron?' Hermione asked. Harry was busy helping Ginny clean her robs from where Kreacher had sniffled all over them.

'I was just going to suggest blowing up the whole wall,' he said. Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes, but Harry thought about it for a second and thought destroying the thing might not have been a bad idea if they'd been unable to remove it.

From there they started going through the house. Ginny's first observation was in the bathroom with the claw-foot bathtub.

'They're snakes,' she said, pointing. 'They should be lions.' Everyone agreed that this was a splendid idea and so Hermione pulled out her wand and transfigured each of the four serpent-shaped feet into lion paws.

'The taps and faucet are all snakes too,' Ron pointed out. 'And the knobs on the towel racks.' And so those were transfigured as well. Ron made the taps into lion tails, Harry made the faucet a lion's head, and Ginny did the same for the towel rack knobs.

'What the ministry doesn't know won't hurt me,' Ginny said as Hermione gave her a look for this use of underage magic. Hermione scoffed and shook her head but said nothing and proceeded to transfigure the showerhead into another lion.

After that they had fun going through the house hunting for any snake-themed ornamentation they could find. They didn't bother transfiguring it all as it would take too long, but they made sure to document everything they found so it could be changed at a later date. They kept score, with each person being awarded a point for every snake they found.

It was getting dark by the time they'd made it through the entire house, and Harry had sent off two more patronus messages to Mrs Weasley. Their list was several feet long and contained everything from door knockers and chandeliers to table legs and curtain rods. Ginny ended up winning with eighty-seven points to Harry's eighty-two and Ron's seventy-nine. Hermione, who complained she had a handicap as she'd been the one writing everything down, had fifty-six.

'I would have gotten more if you'd all bothered to write your own!' she wailed.

'You're probably right, love,' said Ron, draping his arm across her shoulders, 'but you'd never have beaten Ginny anyway. You know how competitive she is. She didn't even cut Harry a break.' This seemed to placate Hermione, who just smiled and shook her head.

'So what'd I win?' Ginny asked enthusiastically, bounding over to Harry and planting her smiling face right in front of his.

'I'm sure I'll think of something,' he said. 'But we might want to wait until Ron's not around.'

'Oi!'

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

They returned home after that, not wanting to give poor Mrs Weasley a heart attack. As it was, she thanked Harry for his regular updates, but said she still wished they'd come home sooner. Ron somehow managed to talk Hermione into a game of chess, and so Ginny took the opportunity to drag Harry up into her room.

'Am I…er, supposed to be in here?' Harry asked, nervously looking around as though Mr Weasley were going to pop out any second and hex him into next week. Ginny laughed.

'My parents trust you, Harry. Probably more than they trust me, in fact. At least when it comes to that.' Harry could feel a blush creeping up his neck at her implication. 'But that's not why I brought you up here. We'll leave the door open, but cast that anti-eavesdropping spell, would you?'

Confused, but ever-obedient, he cast _muffliato_ and sat down next to Ginny on her bed.

'Now,' she started, a very serious expression on her face, 'you're going to tell me what that was all about in Ollivander's this afternoon.' And suddenly it all made sense. He smiled in relief.

'Oh, that,' he said. 'Right. Listen, Ginny, I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or anything. Hell, I've told you the worst stuff already, so what would be the point? I honestly just forgot to mention it.'

'I believe you, Harry,' she said. 'I didn't think you were deliberately keeping something from me; I trust you more than that. It's just…how do I say this? Sometimes it hurts that I wasn't able to be with you through all of this. That there are things that you went through with Ron and Hermione that I'll never be able to share with you. I'll know about them, even though no one else ever will, but I wasn't _there_ and it just…sucks. You know what I mean?' She looked at him with an expression of vulnerability he rarely saw in her, and he scooped her into his arms at once.

'I do,' he said. 'I really, really do. Ron said the same thing after he came back to us after Christmas. And believe me, no one wishes you could have been there as much as me.' He released her and held her in front of him, looking into her eyes. 'I used to watch you on the Marauder's Map while we were traveling, wondering how you were and what you were doing. Did I ever tell you that?' She shook her head. 'It's true,' he said. 'It made it feel as if you were closer, somehow. That if only I could reach into the map, I could touch you and make sure everything was all right.'

'Really?' she asked. She was tearing up again, the way she had when they'd talked the day after the battle.

'Really. And that's something not even Ron or Hermione know, either,' he told her. She sprang forward and hugged him again, laughing wetly as he stroked her hair. After a minute or so, she sat up straight again.

'All right, enough of that,' she declared, all business again. 'So about Ollivander's…'

Harry laughed at her and began his story. He told her about visiting Xeno Lovegood and learning about the Deathly Hallows. She gasped when she heard what he'd done, but forgave him when Harry reminded her about Luna. He then went on to tell her about his deductions that his cloak was a Hallow, that Voldemort was after the Elder Wand, and that the Resurrection Stone had been hidden in the golden snitch given to him by Dumbledore.

'And so you really got to see them?' she asked at that part of the story. 'Your parents, and Sirius, and Remus?' He nodded. 'Oh, that's so wonderful, Harry! I'm so happy you were able to do that. I mean, obviously I wish it had been in better circumstances, but that you finally got to meet them, and speak with them…' she trailed off and hugged him tightly again. 'I'm really happy for you,' she whispered into his chest.

'Thanks,' he said. 'And just so you know, Ron and Hermione didn't hear about this part of the story, either.' She detached herself from his chest and kissed him thoroughly, leaving him nearly bereft of his senses. When she finally pulled away and beckoned him to continue, it took him a moment to remember what he'd been talking about.

'Well that's the end, really. I already told you how he killed me and everything, and you saw the duel. The reason he couldn't curse me with the Elder Wand was because it had already given its allegiance to me.'

'Because you'd disarmed Malfoy, right?' she asked. 'And he was the one who'd really disarmed Dumbledore?' He nodded. 'Wow. That's all really confusing. I didn't know wands were so fickle.'

'I don't think most of them are. This is a special case. After all, it was able to repair my broken wand, and that's supposed to be impossible.'

'Good point,' she nodded. 'So that's what you said to him right before that final curse? You told him it wouldn't work because you were the wand's master?'

'Right. Naturally, he was too convinced of his own greatness to believe me, so it didn't make much of a difference. Hermione's right, though. I shouldn't have said anything at all. Suppose someone puts the pieces together and figures out I have the Elder Wand?'

'Well, there's no sense worrying about it now,' she said. 'There's nothing we can do about it, is there? And if some idiot tries to hunt you down to steal the Wand of Destiny or whatever, he's going to have to go through me, and I promise he won't like that.' That fierce look Harry loved so much once again appeared, and he couldn't help himself from kissing her one more time before going downstairs. Even with the door open, Mr and Mrs Weasley had to be wondering what they were doing up in Ginny's room for so long.

The next few days were a lot of fun. They made a couple of trips to Grimmauld Place and started transfiguring all the snakes they'd found, and even managed to find a few more that they'd missed. Ginny also declared that the ratty old green rug in the drawing room had to go, and so she and Harry spent a day in Diagon Alley looking for a replacement while Ron and Hermione visited her parents' dental practice to make sure everything was in order. Before anyone knew it, Harry's birthday was upon them.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

There's chapter three for you. I had some trouble with transitions, getting from one part of the chapter to another. I had several things I wanted to have happen in this chapter, but couldn't quite work out how to get them from one thing to the next. The final result ended up a bit choppy in my opinion, and I'm not completely happy with it, but I was getting impatient to get to the next chapter and couldn't really come up with anything better. I may come back and revise this chapter later on if inspiration strikes. Just the transitions, mind. The content will remain the same.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. I haven't gotten any for this story yet and I'm anxious to see how people are reacting to it, or if they're even reading it at all.

See you next time.


	4. Chapter 4: Birthdays

**Chapter 4**

**Birthdays**

Harry stayed at the Burrow the night before his birthday. (He'd not been given any choice in the matter). And so it was that he found himself being shaken awake by Ron the next morning, even though he'd been having a rather pleasant dream about something that had happened in that very house on his last birthday.

'Get up, mate!' Ron called after smacking his foot for the third time. 'Mum's made breakfast, and no one's allowed to eat until you show up.'

'I should have known this was about food,' Harry grumbled good-naturedly. Nevertheless, he reached for his glasses and sat up. 'What time is it, anyway?'

'Around eight or so,' Ron said. Harry raised his eyebrows.

'Since when do you get up this early?'

'Since I spent a year living in a tent, waking up at the crack of dawn so mad Death Eaters wouldn't find me and kill me in my sleep,' Ron answered dryly. 'I can't believe you're able to have even this much of a lie-in. My brain won't even let me anymore.'

'Huh,' Harry said, thinking about it. It was true that it was easier for him to get up in the mornings now than it ever had been in the past, but he was still able to sleep past sunup when he felt like it. It just so happened he felt like it most days. 'Well, that'll serve you well when we get back to school, I suspect.'

'The silver lining,' Ron remarked, rolling his eyes. 'Now hurry up, the smell of bacon is driving me mad. If I can't be sleeping, I bloody well want to be eating.'

'All right, I'm coming. Just give me a sec, will you?' Harry stumbled around, finding his trousers and a shirt, and performed a quick cleaning charm on his socks before putting them on his feet. All the while Ron was dancing in place like he had to use the loo. When Harry was finally ready, he practically leapt out the door of his attic room.

'Careful there, mate,' Harry called. 'Wouldn't want to kill yourself falling down the stairs before having a chance to sample that food.'

'Ha, ha,' Ron narrowed his eyes and waited for Harry to catch up. 'Oh, and happy birthday, by the way.'

'Nice to know I rank just below bacon with you.'

'Bloke's gotta have his priorities. And anyway, you're not _just_ below bacon. It's something like bacon, Hermione, quiddich, chess, butterbeer, you.'

'You put me above Honeydukes?" Harry countered, feigning surprise.

'Well, you are my best mate, after all.' Ron said matter-of-factly. They were passing Ginny's room. The door was ajar and Harry tried to peek inside surreptitiously, but he couldn't tell if she was in there or not. The dream he'd been having before being woken flared back into his consciousness, and it was hard to pay attention to what Ron was saying. The next thing he knew, they were headed into the kitchen and…

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!' The entire Weasley family (sans Bill and Charlie) was gathered in the kitchen waiting. Hermione was there too, and even Luna, who must have flooed over at a time when most people would still have been sleeping. He looked to Ron, who had an irritatingly smug look on his face, and then to the others, who were all beaming at him. He opened his mouth to say something (though he was fairly sure he wouldn't have managed more than 'Ga?'), but was interrupted by Ginny wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him in full view of her entire family.

It was a shock, to say the least. Sure she'd kissed him before in front of her mother, and even her father once, but never in front of her brothers and never all of them at once. Luckily (or not, he couldn't decide), she let him go before he had a chance to panic.

'What is this?' Harry asked, flabbergasted.

'Well, a bunch of us were sitting around for breakfast, and thought we'd just yell things at you for no particular reason,' George said. 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' he bellowed.

'It's your birthday party, you dolt,' Ron said, grinning. 'Did you think we all forgot or something?'

'No, I suppose not,' Harry conceded. 'I'm just not used to having birthday parties is all.'

'You had one last year,' Ron pointed out.

'And the year before that,' Ginny added. She had taken hold of his arm and was pulling him toward the breakfast table.

'Okay, I see your point,' Harry conceded, allowing Ginny to force him into a chair while Mrs Weasley passed him a plate piled high with every type of breakfast food he could ever recall eating in his life. 'Still, you didn't have to go to the trouble…'

'Oh, it's no trouble at all, dear!' Mrs Weasley said, waving him off as if he were being ridiculous. 'Now eat up. Ginny and the boys have arranged something else as well and I'm sure they're all dying to get to it.'

The moment Harry dug into his food, the others followed. After a very satisfying meal and a quick clean-up, it was time for another surprise.

'What's this about?' Harry asked as Ron handed him the pot containing the family's supply of floo powder.

'Well, we know how much you hate the press,' Ron explained. 'And they've been getting more and more desperate to get hold of you since you've been avoiding them so much.'

'They've even come round the shop asking after you,' George said. 'And they've been hassling Bill, Percy and Dad at work, too.'

'We figured that since your birthday is common knowledge, they'd be extra desperate today, and we wouldn't put it past them to try something here,' Mr Weasley explained.

'So we're going to go somewhere they won't think to look for you and have the party there,' Ron finished. Harry, who had been aware of none of this, suddenly felt guilty for putting the Weasleys through all that hassle.

'Oh no you don't,' Ginny said all of a sudden. Caught off-guard, Harry gave her a puzzled look. 'I know that face. You were feeling all bad about the press bothering everyone, weren't you? Well you can just stop that right now, because there's no way any of us would have let them bother you after everything that's happened.'

'Besides,' George said, cutting him off before he could even begin to speak, 'they ask after Ron and Hermione almost as often as you, so even if you did talk to them they'd still be irritating everyone.'

'Just let it go, mate,' Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder and chuckling at Harry's feeble attempts to protest. Deciding there wasn't much point in arguing the point further, he followed his friend's advice and held up the pot of powder.

'Where are we going?' he asked.

'That's better,' Ron said. 'Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur insisted once we figured the press would try to crash anything we did here.' Harry smiled. He liked Bill and Fleur, and would be forever in their debt for harboring he, Ron and Hermione back in the spring. He was also very fond of Shell Cottage, and was looking forward to spending time there in a stress-free environment. Grabbing a pinch of powder from the pot and then handing it off to Ginny, he called out the name of his destination and stepped into the flames.

Moments later he was accosted by flowing tresses of silvery blonde hair as Fleur embraced him and kissed him on either cheek.

''Arry!' she greeted warmly, flashing her brilliant smile. 'It iz so good to see you! And 'appy birthday!' She moved aside and her husband, Bill, appeared and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

'Welcome back, Harry,' he said with a smile of his own. 'Hope things are a bit more fun this time around.'

'That makes two of us. Thanks, Bill. Fleur. And not just for having this party today.'

'Not another word about that,' Bill scolded kindly. 'I mean it, Harry. We'd do it again a hundred times and you'd have done it for us, so there's no need to keep going on about it.' Fleur was nodding, and Harry was spared having to come up with a response by Ginny appearing in the fireplace behind him. He helped her step out and then allowed Fleur to lead the two of them into the house. There were others waiting for them in the sitting room.

'Hagrid!' Harry exclaimed. 'Neville!'

'Happy birthday, Harry!' Hagrid boomed, thumping him on the back and making him stumble a few steps before regaining his balance. Neville's greeting was more reserved – a simple handshake.

'I should be saying the same to you, Neville,' Harry replied to his friend. 'Sorry I couldn't come by yesterday in person.'

'Don't worry about it,' Neville waved him off. 'The Mexican fire cactus you sent made it – thanks a ton, by the way – and I wouldn't have been home anyway.'

'Oh?' Ginny asked, coming over to hug him.

'Big news,' Neville said, letting her go. 'I'll tell you tomorrow; I don't want to steal attention from the party.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Neville,' Harry said. 'It's as much your party as mine as far as I'm concerned. Tell us.'

'All right, then,' Neville said, blushing. 'I've been accepted into the auror program.' There was a pause as Harry let the shock of what he'd just heard sink in. Of course Neville would have a head start on him, having actually been to school the year before. And he couldn't be jealous really, after all Neville had gone through to get to where he was.

'That's brilliant, mate!' Harry exclaimed at the same time Ginny shrieked with joy and hugged him again.

'What's brilliant?' asked Ron, who had just entered the room with Hermione in tow.

'Neville's going to be an auror!' Ginny cried excitedly.

'What, really?' Ron asked, looking from her to Neville. 'That's fantastic, mate! Well done.'

'Congratulations, Neville,' Hermione said, coming forward to hug him as well. 'I know you'll do excellent, and you'll be able to keep these two idiots in line when they join up next year.' She gestured to Harry and Ron.

'Hahaha. Well, I don't know about that,' Neville said. 'I don't plan to stay with the aurors forever, just until they manage to rebuild the department. And I expect I'll be taking orders from Harry by the time I leave.'

They joked for a few more minutes – enough time for the rest of the family to arrive. Then Harry was informed it was time to open his gifts (he was again given no choice in the matter). From Bill and Fleur he received an odd assortment of mismatched socks – something that got odd stares from the rest of the family but which held a great meaning for him. Ron, Hermione and Luna, who had been present those few short months ago at this very house for Dobby's death and burial understood completely, as he knew Bill and Fleur did, and he made sure they knew just how much he appreciated the gift before moving on to the next one.

Neville gave him a book on plant properties and their use in potions ('How else do you think I scraped an A in that N.E.W.T.? I didn't even take the class.'), Hermione gave him one on high-level jinxes and counterjinxes, and Luna gave him what appeared to be her attempt at a replica of Ravenclaw's diadem made from what might well have been old licorice wands.

'I infused it with a wit-sharpening potion before casting the preservation charm,' she said. 'It's nowhere near the power of the original of course, but it might come in handy someday.'

Feeling whimsical, Harry put it on and could not be sure, but thought he felt his brain whirring a bit more than usual.

'Well?' Ginny asked, watching him with a look of restrained amusement. 'Do you feel especially clever?'

'Always, why?' he asked innocently, and everyone had a good laugh before he continued on opening his gifts.

George had given him the usual gamut of Wheezes, Percy another book (_Chasing the Dark – An Inside Look at the Life of an Auror_ by Lancel Lionheart), and from Ron he received a pair of professional-grade seeker's goggles.

'You can charm them to have any prescription you need, they come with a permanent _impervious_ charm, and they'll keep the wind out of your eyes better than your glasses ever could,' Ron informed him.

'That's brilliant, mate! Thanks,' Harry said, trying them on at once. He had to take them back off so as to read the directions on how to charm them to his prescription, but then put them right back on. 'How do I look?' he asked.

'Very handsome,' Ginny said from his right and kissed his cheek.

'Like a pro,' Ron said, clearly doing his best to ignore Ginny's display of affection in deference to Harry's birthday.

It was Hagrid's turn now, and he stepped forward and handed Harry a folded bit of parchment. 'I was thinkin'', he said. 'I know yeh must miss Hedwig, but I didn' know if yeh were ready yet to get yerself a new owl yet. An' if yeh did, ye'd prolly want ter pick one out for yerself. So tha's a letter to the folks at Magical Menagerie. Yeh can go in there any time yeh like, an' give 'em that letter, and anything yeh buy'll be billed ter me.'

Harry was touched. He remembered all too well that Hagrid had been the one to buy Hedwig for him – his first every real birthday present – seven years ago that very day. This was the best gift Hagrid could have given him. 'Thanks, Hagrid,' he said. 'It's perfect.' He was, as Hagrid had suggested, not quite ready to replace Hedwig, but he knew he'd need an owl at some point. He tucked the letter into his pocket, and was nearly bowled over by Ginny, who had stood up to retrieve her gift at some point and then bounced down right next to him with a package and exclaimed, 'Me next!'

Harry took it from her, laughing, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek again. As she did, she whispered, 'I'll give you your real present later,' and then pulled back as if she hadn't done anything at all while Harry suddenly found himself having to hide the fact that his blood was now running hot.

He made a big deal out of opening the package, hoping to distract attention from the furious blush that was now surely covering his whole body. No one commented though, and so it was with genuine mirth that he examined Ginny's gift. It was a black T-shirt, upon which appeared to be a yellow cartoon mouse with a lightning bolt for a tail. It was stepping out of a cracked-open red and white ball with a look of triumph on its face, and underneath was written the caption, "I am the CHOSEN ONE!"

Harry burst out laughing. He had no idea where she had found such a thing, or why it even existed, but it was absolutely perfect. He turned it to show everyone else, who all immediately joined in laughing. Ron performed a switching spell that swapped the new shirt with the one he'd been wearing, 'To round out the look with your goggles and diadem,' he said.

'Wherever did you find this?' Hermione asked Ginny once her laughter was under control. Ginny, still laughing herself, had to take a few more seconds before she could respond.

'I saw it in a muggle shop when Ron and I were looking for something for Dad,' she explained. 'It was just too perfect. I had to get it.'

'Absolutely,' agreed Ron. 'What's it supposed to be, though?'

'Haven't the foggiest,' Ginny shrugged. 'I saw the same mouse thing on a couple of other shirts though, so it must be some muggle character that's popular.'

'Amazing what muggles think up,' Mr Weasley said fondly.

'Is its tail actually a bolt of lightning?' Neville asked.

'Looks like it,' George said. 'Maybe they had you in mind when designing this little fellow, Harry.'

'It looks Japanese,' Luna observed. All eyes turned to her.

'What makes you say that?' Bill asked.

'Oh, I don't know,' Luna said. 'Just something about its face.' Harry laughed and shook his head. Knowing Luna, he wouldn't be surprised at all to learn this weird mouse creature actually was Japanese.

'I suppose that's everyone, then,' George announced rather boisterously. 'We should probably get started on that cake.'

'Thanks so much, everyone,' Harry started, but stopped when he noticed that everyone seemed to be suppressing a smile, as though George had just told a rather funny inside joke that he wasn't a part of. Curiously, he turned to look at Mr and Mrs Weasley, who were beaming. Mr Weasley pulled something out from behind his back.

'This one's from all of us, Harry,' he said, indicating his family. 'We're all agreed we should have given it to you years ago, but there's no time like the present, as they say.' He handed Harry a long, rectangular box not much bigger than one of Hagrid's fingers. Harry lifted the top of it to see something long and thin wrapped in a few layers of tissue paper. As he lifted it out, he happened to glance up at the room and see all the Weasleys looking on with barely restrained anticipation. Indeed, Ginny seemed quite beside herself with excitement and could not hide the brilliant grin on her face.

Now positively dripping with curiosity, Harry removed the tissue paper from the box and took from it a flat, curiously shaped metal item. It took him a moment or two to realize what it was, but once he did, he could feel tears threatening to build up behind his eyes, and there was a great lump in his throat.

Sitting in his hands, with the name "Harry" written on it in gold, was a black piece of metal fashioned into the shape of an arrow. The hand of a clock.

Unable to speak, Harry just held the gift up, all too aware that he must be gaping like a fish. Finally, he managed to choke something out. 'Everyone, I…'

'Happy birthday, son,' Mr Weasley said softly. Ginny leaned in and enveloped him in a crushing hug, while Mrs Weasley dabbed tears from the corners of her eyes.

'You've been a part of our family for ages, dear,' she said. 'It's about time our clock started reflecting that.'

'Just as well we waited, really,' Ron said jokingly. 'Harry's would have been pointing straight up for the entire time, most likely. You worry too much as it is, Mum.' She hit him playfully as she continued to smile at Harry.

He himself was still having trouble forming words. He was hugging Ginny back, with no intention of letting go any time soon, and holding the tiny piece of metal in his hand as if it were the world's greatest treasure. It was, really. A sniffle from Hermione managed to jerk him back to his senses, and he choked out, 'Thank you. Really. This is…'

'A long time coming,' George finished for him. 'And not another word about it, clear?' Harry wanted to argue, but could see they weren't going to let him, so he simply said one last word of thanks and let it go.

'We'll put it on the clock when we get back to the Burrow,' Mrs Weasley announced. 'But unless anyone has anything else, shall we move outside?'

The rest of the day was spent enjoying the outdoors and each other's company. A quiddich game was started on the small beach at the base of the cliff that was hidden from muggle view, during which Harry and Ginny, as the two best players, were not allowed to be on the same team. Harry got Ron and Ginny got George, and after that, Neville pointed out, it didn't really make much difference as none of the rest of them were any good.

They had a picnic lunch and cake, played some more quiddich, at which point Fleur invited everyone to stay for dinner. By the time they returned to the Burrow, Harry had almost forgotten Ginny had promised to give him another present.

'Let's go for a walk,' she said after everyone had gathered to put Harry's hand on the family clock. George and Percy returned to their own flats, and Ron left to take Hermione home. Mr Weasley had retired to his shed, and evidently Ginny did not trust her mother not to interrupt the two of them when there was no one else in the house to distract her.

'Did you have a good birthday?' Ginny asked, taking his hand once they were on the road headed to the village.

'Brilliant,' Harry said. 'Best one yet, in fact. Except for one thing last year that I think will be hard to top.' He grinned at her and squeezed her hand.

'Well aren't you cheeky?' she teased, smiling back at him. 'Did you forget to take off that diadem Luna gave you?'

'No, actually. Just natural wit.'

'So you've just been keeping it a secret all these years, then?' She bumped him with her hip and dragged him along, off the road and up a hill.

'Not on purpose,' he said. 'I'm actually quite shy, you see. Takes a while for me to warm up to people.' She stopped for a moment and turned to face him, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. Then she slapped his chest playfully.

'Prat.'

He laughed and allowed her to continue leading him to the top of the hill, where there was a single oak tree growing, and from where they could see the Burrow up the road behind them and the village down the road farther on. She sat down at the base of the tree and he plopped down next to her, pulling her into his lap. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, languorously and deeply.

It was the most leisurely kiss they had ever shared, and he was loving every second of it. There could not be any way for life to be better than this – sitting under a tree at sunset on his birthday, kissing Ginny without a care in the world. Neither of them had anywhere to be and there was no one around to bother them or interrupt; they could stay like this for as long as they wanted and no one would care.

By the time they emerged from the dreamy haze the kiss had put them in, the sun had fully set and they were sitting on the hill in the twilight, breathing heavily and holding each other so strongly that no magic could have pulled them apart, and at the same time so gently that either of them may have been made of porcelain. Harry could barely contain the joy he felt. The feel of Ginny in his arms – every part of her fit so perfectly against him, her curves aligning with his body as though she was made just for him – was the greatest sensation in the world.

'I love you, Harry,' she breathed, and a jolt of something like fire and lightning shot through his body, as it did every time she said those words. He kissed her jaw and said them back, and he could feel the shiver his words caused in return in her.

'I think this officially tops last year, then' he said. She laughed and kissed him again, then pulled back ever so slightly.

'That reminds me. I still have something for you,' she said, reaching into her pocket.

'What, better than this?' he asked, half joking, half incredulous.

'Well, perhaps not. But I wanted to give it to you anyway.' She pulled out a small shiny object, and after a moment of hesitation, gingerly handed it to him. Slightly nonplussed, he took it and examined it, and was suddenly even more confused.

'The captain's badge?' he asked. 'I thought we decided you were going to do that this year.'

'I know we did, but hear me out,' she pleaded, placing her hands on his chest. Still a bit baffled, he nodded for her to go on.

'You said you didn't mind me being captain – and I believe you! – and it was really, really sweet of you, but we both know you're a natural leader, Harry. You wouldn't be able to help yourself. And I'd end up asking you for advice all the time anyway, so this way…' he opened his mouth to argue, but she apparently wasn't finished yet. 'I've already sent a letter to McGonagall and I talked to Hagrid today. I know you're too stubborn to take it since it's already been given to me so I won't even ask, but if you say it's okay, they've both agreed to let us be co-captains.'

Harry closed his mouth on the slew of objections he'd been about to throw out. She'd definitely surprised him with that one. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. With two captains, there would always be one to watch and comment while the other was playing, and she could focus especially on the chasers while he concerned himself with the others. Not to mention collaborating on strategy would surely field them with some excellent plays. And there was one other thought that occurred to him: his parents had been Head Boy and Girl together. While that was obviously beyond he and Ginny, being quiddich captain together was something very like that which they could share.

Ginny was still staring at him with those big, pleading eyes she'd mastered for when she really wanted something, and he could tell she was prepared to fight him for this if necessary. He grinned. 'Sounds brilliant,' he said.

Clearly she'd been expecting him to put up a fight, because she gasped and goggled at him for a minute before choking out, 'Really?' At his nod, she squealed in glee and dove into him again, knocking him back into the trunk of the tree. He didn't mind.

'This is going to be so great, Harry!' she cried, still clinging to him.

'Yeah, I think it really is,' he said, hugging her back. 'Though I suppose I ought to give you your badge back. Mine's still around somewhere; I'll dig it out.'

'Oh, don't worry, that is yours,' she said, sitting up again. At his questioning look, she explained, 'I had Ron get it from your trunk yesterday.'

'So he was in on this too, was he? Well, lucky for him I didn't have anything in there he shouldn't see.'

'Oh?' Ginny asked coyly. 'Like what?'

'Er…never mind.' She giggled and snuggled into his chest, and the two sat for a while and watched the stars come out. At one point Harry surreptitiously sent a patronus to Mrs Weasley informing her that they were just down the road and not to worry. It took absolutely no effort whatsoever. Harry was sure that at that moment he could have conjured a hundred of the things.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The next week went by fairly quickly. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione spent a lot of their time at Grimmauld Place. They had grown tired of turning everything into lions, and so began transfiguring snake heads into stag heads, added antlers to things just for fun, and even threw in a few bear-like dogs and a wolf or two. Harry transformed two of the legs of an end table in the drawing room into a full stag, and then on a whim turned the other two into a horse in honor of Ginny's patronus. This turned out to be a stroke of genius, as Ginny was so tremendously pleased that Ron had to excuse himself from the room for twenty minutes.

Things had been going so well, in fact, that they started getting careless. After a full week of peace, Harry and Ginny were finally caught off-guard on the Sunday before her birthday. They'd been on their way back up from the village toward the Burrow when a small group of witches and wizards suddenly accosted them on the road. Harry had his wand out and was halfway to cursing them when he noticed they were all carrying either parchment and quill or cameras.

'Great,' snarled Ginny. She had drawn her wand as well, and unlike Harry, she had yet to put it down. 'Just what we need.'

'Mr Potter, a quick word?' one of the reporters – very bravely, thought Harry, glancing at the murderous expression on his girlfriend's face – stepped forward, quill poised.

'Harry's not talking to reporters today,' Ginny said firmly. 'This is a village road, not a press conference.' She waved her wand and the crowd was forced to part, allowing them to walk through and continue on their way. That didn't stop them from being followed, however, and they were harried all the way back to the Burrow, questions being thrown at them all the way.

'Could you tell us how you survived in the forest?'

'Why did You-Know-Who think he'd finished you?'

'How does it feel to no longer be a marked man?'

'Are you worried about the Death Eaters still at large?'

'What are your opinions on the restoration of the Ministry of Magic?'

'What were you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named discussing before he was killed?'

Ginny was practically running by the time they reached the house, pulling him along by the hand. She slammed the door, shutting out the clamoring voices and spun around quickly to lock it and seal it shut.

'Honestly!' she huffed. 'You'd think they could give you a moment's peace!' She returned her wand to her pocket and stormed off to the living room, where she began to pace around angrily, gesticulating wildly. Harry looked on in a mixture of amusement and surprise. 'I mean, Merlin forbid you're not compelled to relive the entire experience day after day! And what's with the continuation of this "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" rubbish? Are we still not allowed to say his name even after he's dead?'

'Ginny, calm down,' Harry said, repressing a laugh.

'Why should I?' She shrieked, whirling on him. Despite everything, Harry could not help but admire the way it made her hair fly in a graceful arc behind her. 'The fawning admirers are one thing, but this? These people who haven't done anything but pester you for your entire life show up here when you're minding your own business and expect you to just spill your guts on everything that's happened as if it were no big deal? Like they're entitled? They don't know you! They don't care about you! They just want to sell their damn newspapers!' She was breathing very erratically now, and Harry crossed the room quickly to embrace her.

'It's all right, love,' he said, stroking her back. 'Breathe.' Her indignation on his behalf was incredibly touching, but at this rate she was going to make herself pass out.

'It just makes me so angry,' she said, much quieter now. She snaked out her arms to hug him back and buried her face in his chest. 'You never asked for any of this, and yet you saved everyone in Britain. The least they could do is just leave you alone.' Her voice was cracking, and Harry could tell she was about to cry. This surprised him as much as anything; it took a lot to bring Ginny to tears.

'I hadn't realized my trouble with the press upset you this much,' he said soothingly, kissing the top of her head. 'Rubbish boyfriend I turned out to be, eh?'

'What?' her head jerked up. 'No! Harry, you – ' she noticed his smirk, and seemed to realize he was trying to lighten the mood. She sighed. 'You're a wonderful boyfriend, Harry. Best in the world. It's just…I suppose I didn't realize how much it bothered me, either. And I can't believe it doesn't bother you.'

'It does, a bit,' he admitted. 'I've gotten used to it.'

'You shouldn't have to,' she murmured miserably, once again burying herself in his chest.

'We heard yelling, what's going on?' Came Ron's voice from the kitchen. He and Hermione had apparently just entered from the back yard.

'Reporters out front,' Harry answered matter-of-factly. Ron offered Harry a knowing look as he and Hermione entered the room.

'Did Ginny curse any of them?' he asked interestedly. 'She's threatened to.'

'Ron!' Hermione admonished, jerking her head in the obviously upset Ginny's direction. To everyone's surprise though, she laughed.

'I almost did,' she said, still clinging to Harry. 'I suppose it's lucky for them I was more intent on getting Harry away from them.'

'Lucky for them and you,' Hermione said, her lips twitching upward. 'War heroes or not, the Ministry probably wouldn't take very kindly to your going around cursing people.'

'I suppose I will have to answer some questions eventually,' Harry said. 'If nothing else, it'll get them to leave us alone for a spell, and I can understand people wanting to know a few more details about what went on.'

Ron and Hermione merely nodded, while Ginny frowned and gripped him tighter.

'Here's the weird bit, though,' Harry went on. 'One of the questions they asked me out there was what Tom and I were talking about before he was killed. There had to have been at least a hundred witnesses to that. I know Ginny said she didn't catch most of it, but surely someone must have?'

'Er, about that,' Ron piped up. 'As soon as you started talking about the Elder Wand…I sort of cast a _Muffliato _around the two of you.' All eyes in the room shot toward him and he looked a little uncomfortable. 'Well, it's like we were saying after we saw Ollivander, isn't it? Probably not the best idea for everybody to know you have that, Harry. Or had it, I suppose, once you put it back where it belongs.' He was of course referring to Dumbledore's tomb, which was to be Harry's first stop after returning to school in September.

'That's very clever, Ron!' Hermione exclaimed, amazed. 'I'd never even thought of that!'

'Me either,' Harry admitted. 'Well done, mate. I suppose I don't need to worry about everyone banging my door down for a duel now.'

'Well, not for that, anyway,' Ron said dryly, to laughter all around.

'Good point,' Harry said, turning his head back toward the clamor that could still be heard through the front door. He really did need to do something about that.

'At least they won't be able to bother you in Australia,' said Hermione, following his gaze.

'I wouldn't bet on that,' he replied, shaking his head. 'If I try to disappear on them, they'll be even more determined to track me down. If only there were some way to get them to clear off for a while.'

'Short of actually talking to them, you mean?' Ron asked with a smirk.

'Well naturally. I mean…' Harry trailed off as a thought struck him. It might be crazy, but it might just… 'I've got an idea,' he announced, and moved toward the door.

'Harry?' Hermione questioned. Ginny made to follow him but he waved them all off.

'Trust me,' he told them. 'This will work.' He opened the door and stepped out, quickly closing it again. There stood the crowd of reporters, as close as the wards would allow them, now shouting with renewed vigor at his apparent capitulation to their demands for his attention. He walked forward, doing his best to affect an air of confidence. Their questions rang out at him; more of the same.

'Mr Potter! How is it you survived in the forest?'

'What would you say to the family members of those killed in the battle?'

'Where have you been for the last ten months?'

'How do you justify staying in hiding so long before confronting You-Know-Who?'

'Is it true you have a personal relationship with the interim Minister for Magic?'

'What did You-Know-Who say to you during your duel?'

Amongst all this, Harry noticed one young reporter standing near the back who had yet to say anything at all. She looked maybe only a few years older than he was; he thought he might recognize her from Hogwarts. She had very curly reddish brown hair tied back in a ponytail, an excess of freckles and glasses almost exactly like his own. She stood holding a quill over a piece of parchment, but did not share the self-assured posture of her peers. Indeed, she looked rather intimidated by the very prospect of being there.

Harry held up his hand for silence, and the crowd immediately complied, their quills poised to take down whatever he was about to say. Instead, he pointed at the young reporter near the back. 'Don't I know you from school?' he asked.

The girl, who was clearly as shocked by Harry addressing her as the rest of them were, looked around for a moment before answering.

'Er…yes, I suppose,' she said. 'We never spoke, but I was three years ahead of you in Ravenclaw. Mallory Thornberry.' The name did not ring a bell, but that was hardly important at the moment.

'Who do you write for, Mallory?' he asked, trying to be as friendly as possible. If she said _The Daily Prophet_ or _Witch Weekly_ he was prepared to ditch the whole plan and go back inside, but instead to his delight, she replied, _'The Hogsmeade Howler.'_ Harry had never read the local circulation of Britain's only all-magic village, but he knew plenty of people did, and he furthermore knew they were far less inclined to sensationalize the news to boost subscriptions.

'Brilliant,' Harry said, grinning. 'Do you think you could wait over there for just a moment?' He gestured to a bench on the Burrow's front porch. Clearly puzzled, she made her way over, while Harry turned his attention back to the others, who were beginning to grow restless.

'I know you all want answers – almost as much as I want to be left alone,' he said in a pleasant, joking tone. 'I'm prepared to speak with all of you and answer whatever I can, but there are two conditions. First, no exclusives, so don't even bother to ask. I've already agreed to one and that's all I'm going to do.' This wasn't strictly the truth, but near enough, he reckoned. 'You're all welcome to come to a press conference, where I'll take your questions. I don't know where yet, but I'm sure we can talk Tom into giving us the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron.

'Second,' he continued, 'I'm leaving on holiday this week. I'll hold the conference when I get back at the end of the month. Anyone who tries to track me or my family down before then won't be welcome. Thank you.' He then turned his back on them and made his way back to the house, where a bewildered Mallory Thornberry was now sitting. He could hear the others behind him, conversing amongst themselves, evidently trying to decide what they should make of his demands. By the time he reached the door, he could hear the first pops signaling their disapparition.

'Wh-what was that all about?' Thornberry asked him. He smiled at her.

'I figured the only way I'd finally get you lot to clear off would be to give you what you were after. On my terms, though.' Harry watched her digest this, then went on. 'So. You didn't ask me any questions before.'

'Well…I didn't think you would hear me,' she said simply. Harry laughed.

'No, I suppose not. But if you were going to ask me one question…just one…what would it be?'

Thornberry looked him in the eye and he could tell she understood his implication: if she asked the wrong one, it really would be the only one she would get.

'I…I suppose I'd ask you…how were you able to do it? How did you manage to weather all the distrust, all the pressure, everything the Death Eaters and the rest of the wizarding world put on you these last few years, and still find the strength to do what you did?'

Harry smiled, then reached out and opened the front door. 'Come on inside, Miss Thornberry. We'll talk.' He led the flabbergasted young reporter into the Burrow, where they were greeted by the confused stares of Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The four of them spoke to Thornberry for over an hour, answering her questions and telling her as much as they dared. Thornberry, hardly believing her luck, did not press them when they said they either could not or would not answer something. Well, not overmuch. She was a reporter, after all.

'Are you sure that was wise, Harry?' Hermione asked after the bespectacled reporter left with several full sheaves of parchment under her arm.

'Well, they were never going to leave us alone otherwise, were they?' he said. 'Besides, people do deserve to know _something_, I suppose. I know I'd want to.' He thought back to the summer before his fifth year, when he had been desperate for any kind of news whatsoever.

'At least they'll be staying away until this press conference of yours, Harry,' said Ron. 'They won't want to risk not being allowed in.'

'And,' Ginny added with a vicious grin, 'now Harry's made sure exactly what kind of questions they're going to ask him at that conference.' She caught Harry's eye and he matched her grin. Trust Ginny to figure that out so quickly, though he was surprised that Hermione hadn't caught on first.

'Of course!' his bushy-haired friend exclaimed. 'They'll be so focused on what we talked about in our interview with Thornberry, wanting follow-ups and clarifications and everything, they won't bother asking their usual type of questions.'

'Blimey!' Ron gasped. 'That's brilliant, Harry! Was that your plan all along?'

'Course it was,' he replied proudly. 'Reckon that gift of Luna's had some lasting effects.' His friends laughed, and they began discussing what the public reaction would be to Thornberry's article, which she had told them was due out at the end of the week.

'Too bad we'll be in Australia by then,' Ron lamented. 'I might actually like to see some of that.'

'It's just as well,' said Hermione. 'We'd be even more in demand than usual for at least the first few days.'

The rest of the day was rather uneventful in comparison, and on Monday they saw almost nothing of Hermione, who was making their final travel arrangements. Tuesday was Ginny's birthday, which was celebrated in much the same way Harry's had been, except that her party was held at the Burrow, and it was a bit more extravagant than his had been due to Ginny coming of age. It was something she made sure everyone was aware of from the moment she woke up, using magic to accomplish absolutely everything, to the point that even George could be heard saying she ought to give it a rest.

'I'd be apparating everywhere too,' she whispered to Harry with a glance in George's direction,' but I don't have a license yet and Mum would kill me.'

'We can go in and take your test later today if you like,' Harry told her. 'I've already told your mum I wanted to take you out, but if you'd rather just go on a normal date…'

'No, that sounds great!' she interrupted. 'And afterwards we can go wherever we like,' She waggled her eyebrows at him and he chuckled, hoping the flush he could feel creeping up his neck wasn't too obvious.

Ginny's cake (broom-shaped) didn't last long against a horde of Weasleys, and afterward she was inundated with the mountain of traditional coming-of-age gifts. She was the first witch in the family to receive them, so Mrs Weasley was particularly excited. When it came for Harry's gift, he summoned the long package he'd hidden under Ron's bed and presented it to Ginny nervously. Quite aside from it being her seventeenth, this was her first birthday as his girlfriend and he wanted to make a good showing.

Judging by the incredulous, exuberant look on her face, Ginny already had a fair idea of what the package held, and when she tore into it with gusto moments later, her apparent suspicions were confirmed.

'Harry!' she exclaimed jubilantly. In her hand was a brand new, brightly polished maple broomstick with the golden words _Nimbus 2100_ emblazoned on it. Ginny held it as though it were the International Quiddich Cup itself.

'I was thinking of getting you a Firebolt like mine,' Harry explained as Ginny gazed in rapture at her new broom. 'It is a bit faster after all, but this one has a brand new inertia-dampening charm on it that's supposed to allow all kinds of new maneuvers that would throw you right off of any other broom. For someone as good as you, you could probably fly circles around even a Firebolt on one of those.'

Ginny's focus shifted from the broom to Harry without so much as a flicker of change in her expression, and she launched herself at him, hugging him fervently.

'I love it!' she squealed, squeezing him tightly even as she gripped the broom in her hand. 'Thank you so much!' She released him and immediately mounted the broom, shooting up into the air over the backyard and zipping around with such tight turns that Harry almost grew nauseous just watching. It was beautiful to watch.

'Quiddich cup's in the bag this year,' Ron commented idly as he too watched his sister defy all laws of motion. 'Between the two of you, the rest of us could probably kip under the stands for the whole match for all you'll be needing us.' Harry laughed as Ginny skidded to a halt in front of them, a look of pure elation adorning her gorgeous face.

'It's brilliant!' She cried, running over to hug Harry again. 'How did you even get one? They aren't due to be released until next month!'

He'd been rather hoping she wouldn't notice that, as the answer was a bit embarrassing. Nonetheless, he answered. 'Oh, er…I wrote a letter to the Nimbus Broom Company saying I wanted one,' he said. He left out the part about having to fight to be allowed to pay.

'That's it?'

'Signing the letter "Harry Potter" probably didn't hurt,' Ron added with a smirk. Harry shot him a dirty look but didn't say anything.

'Honestly, Ron,' Hermione huffed, shaking her head. 'Have you ever even heard of the word 'tact'?'

They were saved from the awkwardness, as usual, by George. 'About time it worked in your favor for once, Harry,' he said, clapping Harry on the back. Everyone laughed, but Harry didn't miss the shrewd look Ginny shot his way and knew they would be talking about this more as soon as they left for the Ministry that afternoon.

He was right, as it turned out. As soon as they arrived in the atrium, Ginny turned to him, a strange expression on her face.

'Harry,' she started hesitantly. For his part, he had a good idea what was coming, so didn't interrupt. 'About my birthday present. I love it; don't think for a second that I don't. It might just be the best present I've ever gotten. But I don't…what I mean is…don't think that because we're dating you have to buy me a lot of expensive things. You could have gotten me a bunch of flowers from the garden for all I care. I don't care about any of that other stuff. You know that, right?' Her eyes bored into him imploringly, and it struck him that she was afraid he _didn't_ know that. He couldn't help but smile.

'I do know that,' he told her. 'It's one of the things I love most about you, Ginny. But that's not why I got you that broom.' She tilted her head, not fully understanding. 'I bought you that broom because I knew it would make you happy,' he explained. 'I don't have a lot going for me, but everything I do have goes toward that one goal: making you smile. If I were a chef, I'd cook for you every day. If I were an artist, I'd paint you. What I do have is talent on a broom, so I'll fly with you whenever you want. And I have money and a famous name, so I'm going to buy you things that you like. Not to impress you, because I know it wouldn't, but because I can and it makes you smile. I can't think of any better use for something that otherwise has never really done me any good.' The look on her face could have lit up a room, and Harry was suddenly sorry they were in public.

'Oh, Harry!' she cried and hugged him again. 'You really are the best boyfriend in the world, you know?' She sniffed and they held each other for a minute or two before they remembered that they had an appointment.

'Good luck!' Harry called after her as she entered the area where apparition tests were administered. She flashed him a smile and a thumbs up and he settled in to wait. About twenty minutes later she came back out, grinning widely and brandishing her new apparition license.

'Where to now?' he asked her.

'Anywhere we like,' was her answer and she looped her arm around his as they began to make their way back to the atrium, where they could apparate away.

The rest of the afternoon was spent popping around muggle England on Ginny's request. She wanted to know what muggle teenagers did for fun, and though Harry's experience in that area was severely limited, he at least had a fair idea. They went to a fair and stuffed themselves on sweets, rode the ferris wheel and all number of other things Mr Weasley would have been beside himself with glee just to observe.

They went to the cinema, which was a new experience for both of them – Harry never having been allowed and Ginny never having heard of such a thing – and watched a film about a Mexican sword fighter dressed in black. Ginny was utterly enthralled by the whole thing and insisted they had to see movies more often. When Harry told her that they could be watched at home on a television, she was beside herself with excitement and insisted they had to buy one for Grimmauld Place.

'We could have movie nights at your house every week!' she declared eagerly. She was particularly interested to learn that this method could be used to watch movies that had long since ceased playing in the cinema. Harry laughed at her enthusiasm, but could not deny the idea held a certain appeal, and so agreed to shop for a good television as soon as he got a chance.

They ate dinner at a fancy restaurant in London, where they had to confund the maître d' before transfiguring their clothes into "appropriate attire" in order to be seated. After that, they returned to Grimmauld Place, where Ginny attempted her first talking patronus to inform her mother that she would be staying out until the following morning. Harry wasn't sure whether to be excited or uncomfortable.

After a hearty snogging session on the sofa, Harry slowed things down and pulled a small package out of his pocket.

'I, er, got you something else,' he said, handing it over to her. Ginny gasped and took it, looking at him with an unfathomably tender expression. When she tore the paper off and revealed what was inside, she gasped again and gaped at him.

'Harry, it's…it's beautiful,' she said, holding up the glittering jade necklace he'd bought for her. 'I love it.' She smiled and turned it in the light. 'It's the same color as your eyes.'

Harry, who hadn't thought of this, swallowed in embarrassment. 'I, ah, I didn't…I mean, I just knew it was your favorite color,' he explained lamely.

Ginny smirked at him. 'And why do you think that is, Harry?' He jerked as if struck. For some reason, that had never occurred to him at all.

'I dunno,' he said. 'A fondness for pickled toad?' She giggled adorably and swatted his chest.

'Prat.' She leaned in and kissed him. It was like being under the oak tree on the hill all over again. When she pulled away, her eyes were blazing in that way he loved so much. Scrambling for something to say, he blurted out the first thing he could think of.

'It's charmed,' he said. 'I got the idea from your brothers' shield hats. If I'm ever not around and someone tries to get the drop on you…' he was rambling and he knew it, but thankfully Ginny knew just how to handle him. She put her fingers to his mouth to silence him and scorched him once more with her blazing look.

'Take me to bed, Harry.'

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That's it for chapter four. Nothing really to add down here. Reviews are gold. And my greatest motivation, I might add.


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